sale. With feelings of pride and happiness, Hester consented to his wish. As however the painting was of rather large dimensions, she could not herself very well transport it to the Fleet Prison; but she hired a boy, who, for a small sum, would carry it on his shoulder. One thought gave her great satisfaction; Mr. Hartley's solicitor, Pike, could not persecute her now, for what should he know of her present movements? Even if he discovered her painting in the bazaar, it was not likely, she thought, he would remain there all day depreciating its merits, so as to prevent people from purchasing it. No, she was secure from his machinations

now.

Crafty, subtle, sneaking little Pike! peering into corners with untiring industry, and gaining intelligence we scarcely know how, thy secret agency, we grieve to say, was not so easily eluded.

"Take great care," said Hester to the boy, as he carried the painting before her down Fleet-lane in the direction of the prison. "When we reach the door I will knock, and you have only to walk straight through the passage into the further yard. Oh! stop one instant; I have left something at my lodgings, and which my father must have."

She had indeed forgotten her purse, the last shilling in which was to be given to her father that morning. Lightly Hester tripped back, while the boy remained standing on the pavement, the picture on his shoulder. He was an honest youth, and Hester knew him well.

"My good lad," said a man who, wrapped in a great coat, walked up to him immediately that Hester had vanished into the house, " tell me where Hollybush-alley is ?"

can you

The boy looked puzzled, for he did not know of such a place. "Hollybush-alley, sir? Take care, sir, this is a painting I've got here; don't knock against it, please."

"I won't hurt it, my dear youth. Here's twopence for you, if you'll just tell me where Holly bush-alley is."

One hand of the boy, as he took the money, was necessarily withdrawn from the picture-frame; and a very slight knock which the man gave, as if by accident in turning round, caused the painting to fall from the lad's shoulder upon the pavement.

"Oh! what will the lady say?" cried the boy, in great consternation. "I'm very sorry, but it is not injured," said the man; "the wrapper has saved it; the picture is not even soiled. Now let me place it on your shoulder."

"Quick, then; for miss will be here in a minute," exclaimed the trembling youth.

As the stranger lifted the picture, and the boy turned from him, the former might have been observed to draw hastily from his large sidepocket a common painter's brush, smeared with black paint. What his object might be himself only knew; and why he lifted the cloth covering, thrusting his arm beneath it at the very moment he was settling the picture in the desired position, was equally a mystery.

"It is all right," said the man. "I won't trouble you any more about Hollybush-alley, for I think I know it now. There, you may keep the twopence;" and the speaker, who in truth had not expected this golden opportunity of accomplishing so easily what he meditated, vanished around the corner, just as Hester came up, out of breath with

climbing and descending the countless stairs of the high lodging-house. The boy did not mention the incident which had occurred, since no damage seemed to have been done. They reached the prison; and the picture having been carried to the room of Mr. Somerset, the lad went

away.

The father and daughter stood before the painting, as it leant, concealed by its cover, against the wall. Mr. Somerset was anxious to see it; but Hester repressed his ardour, and would not, for a few minutes, permit him to raise the canvas.

"Brookland Hall and the

"Now, you expect too much," she said. country around, we know, are very beautiful"-the old gentleman sighed -"but I have not done justice to the subject, although this piece has occupied me exactly six weeks.'

"Six weeks, my poor child, labouring for me!" said Mr. Somerset. "But for myself, too, father," observed Hester, smiling.

"Well, I trust you will receive a due reward for your toil. Perseverance is a noble virtue. It will sell it must sell-yet I shall grieve to lose it. Now Hester, gratify me."

The girl playfully put back the intruding hand.

"One instant stop, dear father. Let me open the door, that more

light may fall upon it. Much of the effect of a picture, you know, depends upon the light in which it is placed."

Hester moved back the door, and drew aside the little curtain which hung over the single window. Then, with a girlish pleasure and an artist's pride, she stooped to raise the canvas which covered the fair representation of Brookland Hall. Already, in fancy, the late proprietor saw his beloved Elizabethan mansion, the smooth velvet park, the fresh green trees, the deer, the running brook, the hills, and the distant sea. He half-shaded his eyes with his hands, until the delightful vision should be realised to his senses. But his daughter suddenly started back, and a shriek sprang to her lips. She tottered towards him, unable to articulate words; but her hand was pointed in the direction of the uncovered painting.

Oh, that piteous, agonising look! It sent a thrill to the father's heart. And there was the performance-not a beautiful landscape now; but on the fairy-like colours stood large daubs of black paint. The blue, delicate sky, the green fields, the ancient mansion, were crossed and recrossed by broad belts and smears of the same obliterating paint. The ruin had been done quickly, but done completely.

The pale face of Hester lay on her father's shoulder; and tears, relieving the first shock and the agony, were flowing now. Mr. Somerset saw all, and understood at once her feelings. None but an enemy could have perpetrated the infamous act; and who that enemy was he had little difficulty in divining. One hand supported his drooping child, whose hopes were crushed, and whose labours were all in vain; the other was clenched in rage, and his eyes were full of the fire of indig nation. Another injury was heaped on his head; another stab had been instigated by the cruel brother! Will the law give him no redress? Will justice award to the evil no punishment? He was in a prison, without resources, without a single pound. Who would engage attorneys?-who fee counsel for him? He must bear in patience-his destiny was to suffer.

This

The injured man turned slowly, for he heard a step approach the door. A figure now darkened the entrance, the figure of a person well known. The intruder stood still, with his arms quietly folded. was not the first time he had made his appearance in a similar manner. Roland Hartley came to indulge in the luxury of certain feelings, and to behold the humiliation of his enemy. The lids were half raised from his glowing eyes, and the pupils dilated with a singular expression of malicious enjoyment.

The two brothers gazed on each other, strange to say, without uttering a single word. Their looks seemed to fascinate each other by some deadly influence, and they did not advance a step or move a limb. Hester only cowered away, sinking gradually from her father's embrace, until her fair form half lay upon the floor, one hand being tremulously extended towards him who stood at the entrance, as if she would entreat his forbearance and mercy.

CHAPTER XV.

THE TWO ENEMIES. THE MAGISTRATE.

INDIGNATION at his unparalleled injuries bore down at length all those feelings of a mild forgiving nature which hitherto had rendered Mr. Somerset a patient endurer. Losing command of himself, he now sprang towards Hartley, and seized him by the collar.

"Miserable man! are you not content with perpetrating your infamous deeds, but you must come to add insult to our wrongs, and mock our miseries?"

Hartley, perfectly calm, made no effort to disengage himself.

"Hugh," he said, in a low, measured voice, "you enjoyed your good things for many years-the time has come when you must receive your evil. This is the natural course of earthly events-this is the doom of man!"

"Your philosophy is the philosophy of a demon, hypocrite, and liar! If I have sinned, Heaven hath not appointed thee to be an avenger." "Perhaps it has," said Hartley, with a sneer.

"No, Heaven, to execute its purposes, will not have recourse to meanness and malice. You are instigated only by the Evil One beneath. You seek to drive the iron into my soul deeper and deeper by afflicting this poor child, by blasting her hopes and frustrating her designs. Look yonder!"-Somerset pointed at the ruined picture-"Did you not do

that?"

Hartley at first was surprised, but presently, comprehending the truth, laughed, if that hideous writhing of the hard features might be called laughter.

"I am not guilty, Hugh. I did not besmear that fair picture. I' faith! those black lines and daubs do not much improve the piece." "You employed, then, some villain to do this base act."

"If so, brother, mind it is your place to discover the instrument, and then prove me to be the employer. The law does not call on me to assist you in the matter."

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"I need no assistance. Your tool, the diabolical Pike, is the man." Very well, proceed against us; we are ready to appear. In the Temple, and at St. Mary Axe, you will always find your obedient servants. May.-VOL. XCII. NO. CCCLXV.

H

Good morning." Hartley glanced around him, and added, " Snug quarters-wholesome stone floor, and clean stone walls-cool, pleasant in the summer, exceedingly so; but-winter is coming-good day!"

Hartley turned on his heel, and crossed the prison-yard. He placed five shillings in the debtors' box, and fee'd the turnkeys; for by these means, often practised before-means peculiarly efficacious in the Fleet— he had ingratiated himself with the officials and inmates, so that his visits were hailed with pleasure, and marked attention was always shown him.

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Hester forthwith questioned the lad who had carried the painting, and the incident of the man inquiring for Holly Bush-alley, now first told to her, sufficiently explained the truth; the description, too, given by the boy of the stranger's appearance-though his face had been muffled up in an old great coat-convinced her that the person was Pike. Urged by her father, she consulted a magistrate, who, considering the case, requested Mr. Pike's presence at the office. So plausible, however, were that gentleman's statements, so mild his manner, and sound his arguments, that the magistrate soon became convinced Mr. Pike could not have been the man who accosted the lad and destroyed the painting. "Alas!" said the worthy attorney, we gentlemen of the law, your worship, are frequently placed in a very unenviable position, being considered enemies, when, in reality, we are friends. This young woman's father has the misfortune to be in prison, having run through all his property by means of unsuccessful speculations. I was employed on behalf of one of the creditors, and was compelled, in carrying out the law, to be the reluctant instrument of causing his present confinement. Hence it is that the good, innocent, and affectionate daughter, mourning her father's condition, regards me as a bitter enemy. Everything that goes amiss she ascribes to me. All the ills she endures are traced to my agency, as if I could have any motive or pleasure in persecuting a poor defenceless girl. Alas! I wish I could convince her that I pity both herself and her father, and would assist them to the utmost of my ability."

Mr. Pike smoothed down the tufts of his red hair, drooped his little watery eyes, and looked the picture of candour and benevolence.

Wretched, hypocritical man!" cried Hester, her cheek flushing with honest anger; "you well know that all you now assert is a tissue of falsehoods. Your malignant, your fiendish nature--"

"Hush, girl, if you please!" said the magistrate, frowning; "these hard words must not be used, in my presence, against a respectable attorney. I make every allowance for the state of your feelings, and can well imagine why you consider Mr. Pike an enemy, when, as he justly observes, he is no such thing. He is an attorney, miss, and must act in conformity with the law, and consult the will of his clients. The lad is unable to swear that the man in the great coat, who encountered him in Fleet-lane, is this gentleman; no proof, therefore, exists of the identity of the two individuals. The case, consequently, must be dismissed. Mr. Pike, I have no further question to ask; you may leave. Now, hush, young lady; don't utter another word; the question is decided. What! you will speak!-you brave my authority, do you? Fang," said the worthy magistrate, turning to one of the functionaries, "you had better lead her out of the court."

THE SACK OF NAGY ENYED.

THE rapid conquest of the north of Transylvania, by General Bem, in the two last weeks of the year 1848, produced consternation among the 40,000 Wallachian landstorm who occupied the extensive valley of the Marosh, and who were thus suddenly thrown into imminent danger; for, if Bem should move southward, they would be between him and Saxonland, by whatever route he might choose to debouch, and they had every reason to apprehend that he would trample them in the dust. General Gedeon, who commanded them, had his head-quarters at Marosh Vasarhely, a town of the Szeklers, in the upper valley; and a large force occupied the insulated Szekler canton of Araunyos, between Thorda and Nagy Enyed. This distribution of troops had not only been made with a view to holding the Szeklers in check, but also with that of opposing strong barriers to the victorious Bem. The principal roads from the north converge at those places, and there, consequently, the Hungarians were most likely to come down. The fertility of the valley enables the inhabitants to lay up large stores for the cold season; and the Wallachians might have enjoyed very comfortable winter quarters, but for that ugly Polish general and his band of young dare-devils. Their fears co-operating with their imagination, they ascribed a thousand plans to him which he never entertained.

Among these Wallachians the intelligence of a total rout of their countrymen in the north roused the worst of passions. But instead of manfully calling their conquerors to account on the battle-field, they wreaked their vengeance upon the peaceful citizens of a town held in particular veneration among the Protestant population of Transyl

vania.

Nagy Enyed,* a small but flourishing town on the River Marosh, was, until the 13th of January, 1849, renowned for a Protestant college, where between 1400 and 1500 students received instruction in every branch of science and learning. The sons of the Protestant nobility and gentry were mostly educated at this college, which was so richly endowed that many hundreds of the poorer students were lodged, boarded, and instructed at the sole expense of the institution. A considerable portion of its moneyed property was at that time vested in the English funds. The library was well stocked. The collections of objects of natural history and antiquities, among which the rare Daco-Roman occupied a prominent place, attracted the learned and the curious from distant countries. But political enlightenment was no less fostered at Nagy Enyed than classics and divinity, as, indeed, the Protestants of Transylvania and all Hungary have ever been the champions of national liberty and progress, and the leaders of the people in their frequent political struggles with the house of Austria. The horror with which those votaries of ignorance and superstition, the Greek popes of the Wallachians, looked up to the college at Nagy Enyed, and the jealousy with which it was watched by the Austrian government, may be easily conceived.

Around this quiet seat of the Muses the Wallachian hordes hovered, brooding revenge. Their popes, with frantic appeals to national hatred

* Germanicé-Strasburg.