lanes and dirty passages must we grope through? Your place of meeting, if it be hereabouts, wants the advantage of an airy or respectable situation; but if it be distant, Master Curts, I shall soon tire and return whence I came."

"There is no need for that," said Curts; "the house is close at hand."

"Then,” replied Mat, " I must say that it is very injudiciously situated. Is this it?"

The latter inquiry was made as Curts stopped before the hovel which we described in a former chapter, at the commencement of this history.

"This is the house," said Curts.

"The house, is it?" replied Mat. "Now hear me, Master Curts; my very respected mother is a farming-woman and keepeth pigs; but she hath not one that is not far too well brought up to enter a dirty sty like this: dost think, therefore, that her own son will set his foot within it? Pah! It reeketh vilely!"

"Here is our place of meeting," exclaimed Curts, impatiently. "Wherefore must we meet here?" asked Mat; "who may be the owner of this family mansion?"

"It is Spenton's house," said Curts; "canst thou cease talking?" "I will only observe," answered Mat, "that I cannot congratulate Master Spenton on the state of repair in which his abode is found. If he marry Kate Westrill, will he bring his bride to a home like this?"

"To this house," replied Curts, angrily; "it is cold-art ready?" "If he do bring Kate hither, I hope," said Mat, "she will persuade him to whitewash the place, at the very least. Don't be impatient, my good friend; I will enter, if only to inspect the interior."

Curts whistled, and was similarly answered from within; tapping thrice against the door, it was opened cautiously by an old woman; seeing Curts, she admitted the expected visitors, and, having closed the door, bolted it carefully.

"A cold night this, Master Curts," said she, "it pierceth to the bones of us old folk."

"Yes," replied Curts, shortly; "come, Maybird."

Mat was staring at the woman in undisguised astonishment; he had at first glanced round the room, but now his eye rested fixedly upon the genius of the place. The room was empty; the walls bare and damp, marked by the water that trickled down upon

their face. There was a hearth, blackened, but fireless; the floor was of damp stone. The window, opening into the street, was guarded by a heavy shutter,-surely not for protection against thieves! The outer door was now barred and bolted; whilst another within showed, through its chinks, the light from an adjoining room. The old woman, on whom Mat next fixed his gaze, was principally remarkable for a dearth of beauty. Her bare head was covered with a dirty, once parti-coloured, skull-cap, now of uniform blackness; her wrinkled and smoke-dried features were decidedly hideous. Small twinkling eyes, a long and hooked nose, thin shrivelled lips, and a peaked chin, in continual mumbling motion, below a toothless mouth, offered a general outline more picturesque than agreeable; she wore a close dress over her whole person, that might once have been dyed of some gay colour; what, however, that had been the most expert theorist could not satisfactorily have decided. On her feet were thick, heavy shoes; and with one long bony hand, she shaded the light she held from the draughts that pierced the room in all directions. These first restored Mat Maybird to his senses, and enabled him to hear the angry exclamations of Curts.

"Well!" said the old hag; "what thinkest thou of me, young man?"

"The most disgusting creature I ever beheld," muttered Mat, but in tones beneath the woman's hearing; and, indeed, had they been pretty loud, they would have been to her equally unintelligible. Mat turned to Curts:

"Is this the meeting?" inquired he.

"A truce to folly," said Curts; and looking towards the old woman, she tottered before them to the door, through the crevices of which the light was gleaming. Opening it, Curts and Maybird entered, the old woman following.

The room in which they now stood was far from promising at any time to redeem the general character of the house. The blackened beams on the ceiling were rough, and even in some places broken, the ceiling itself crumbling and bent inwards, the plaster falling from the walls; a rotten deal table stood in the middle of the room, which was lighted by a torch fastened against the wall, and by the blaze of the wood fire in the large and open hearth. Around the latter were seated, on temporary stools, formed of barrels, boxes, or simply logs of wood, the assembled conspirators, on whose countenances the flickering fire cast a dull, lurid light.

Sir Richard Ellerton was there, and rose when the new comers appeared; Andrew and Simon Byre remained sitting.

"Now, Dame Jessamine," shouted Andrew, motioning at the same time with his hand, "give our visitors whereon to sit !"

"Ay, ay," mumbled the old creature, "old folk serve the young; when I was a girl, the young were to serve the old-serve young, serve old, serve all my life through." Thus grumbling, she rolled two casks to the fireside.

"Enough," said Curts; "go."

"Go!" cried the dame; "where am I to go? Why should I go? Eh, master?"

"Go to thy grave, an thou wilt, old woman," muttered Westrill; then, in a louder voice, "To the next room; wait until we have done."

"There is no fire," replied the woman; "it is cold, I shall do ye no harm here: devil's councils as yours may be," added she, leering, "I have matched them in my time, I and Spenton. He's a brave lad, and never threatens me."

"Were he a little braver," muttered Curts, "I think he would do more than threaten."

"Oh!” cried Mat, "this is Master Spenton's housekeeper,— Dame Jessamine, eh ?—a very appropriate name—not so sweetly scented though!" added he, approaching her. "My good lady, I wish to recommend thee something :-thy master expecteth shortly to return with a wife; let me advise, since this house is far from clean, that it be well washed before he return; and," added he, "if thou wert to scour thine own outside it would not be so very much amiss."

The old dame could not hear, and shook her head vacantly, as she tottered away and seated herself at the other end of the room. "Advice wasted!" said Andrew, laughing. "Now, Master Maybird, I pray thee be seated."

Mat seated himself, having first moved his allotted cask to a considerable distance from the others.

is

"Why not sit closer?" inquired Curts.

"No, no," said Mat; "close enough ;-too close; this cask very low,-I'll sit on the table." And accordingly Mat placed himself upon the table, directing one side to Dame Jessamine, and the other to the party assembled round the fire. Sir Richard Ellerton was pacing the room.

"Now," said Mat, "ye may commence business.

I am as

comfortable as I can be under existing circumstances. Curts, dost smell sulphur?"

"No," replied Curts, blind to the meaning of his supposed accomplice.

"Nor anything else ?" inquired Maybird; "dost smell anything else?"

"No," replied Curts.

"Not even Dame Jessamine! Well, that is fortunate! To business, then.”

"First," said Sir Richard, pausing in his walk to and fro, and pointing to Simon Byre, who sat in dogged silence, with his eyes fixed upon the hearth, "know this man as a friend."

Simon looked round with a sneer upon his face, and directed his gaze towards Sir Richard. "No," said he, in his clear, soft voice, "know me not as a friend; I will not profess so much." "How is this?" said Curts; "dost recant what thou hast told us ?"

"Not so," replied Simon Byre; "I can hate him ye hate, and join in your attempts against him-this I will do; but know me not, therefore, as a friend; ye are not men after my heart."

"Art thou too good for such as we ?" asked Westrill, contemptuously.

"Of too good spirit," replied Byre, " to choose for a friend a man like thee-a boyish slave to passion; and for Sir Richard, weak and vacillating, he is no worthy associate."

Andrew looked angrily at the swarthy speaker, but feared to offend one whose limbs were of such powerful mould, and whose temper appeared so savage.

"Master Maybird," said Sir Richard, again pacing the room, "thou understandest this man?"

"Not well," replied Mat; "I cannot say, indeed, that I comprehend him at all."

"Know," cried Simon, fiercely, "know that I hate young Heringford; he hath insulted me, and I will have his life!—It is sufficient for thee to know thus much."

Mat was startled at the ferocity breathed into the woman-tones of the ruffian.

"It is well," said Sir Richard, "it is well. Heaven," he exclaimed, unconsciously communing aloud with his own mind, "into what a scene is this that I am plunged! Far different were the day-dreams of my childhood,-honour and happiness with

Beatrice! Where are they now? Honour-honour! An associate of wretches such as these! Happiness-for ever fled, buried in the tomb of her I loved and injured. Oh, that the first crime in this long chain of wickedness, whose fetters fret my soul, had never been committed! That I were free once more! But there is that which now urgeth me onward in the path that I have chosen; I cannot now turn back!—My brain! my brain!"

With a frantic yell, the unhappy wretch held his head with both hands, as if to restrain the torment, and sank exhausted with his face upon the table.

"He's a poor soul!" said old Jessamine, advancing from her corner; "old as I am, I am far less troubled." Placing her shrivelled hand upon Sir Richard's arm, "Master," said she, "look up, look at me; I once served thee well, but it troubles me not now. I am as well as age will let me be."

"Ha!" cried Sir Richard, rising suddenly,-"Hag! Murderess! Thou art the cause of this! look at me, look !-look at the wreck I am! 'Twas thou that didst move the first spring to crush me with the load of crime that thou hast brought upon my head. But thou art guilty-thou art guiltier than I! Slanderer! Murderess of the innocent! Away! I cannot look upon thee!"

"What is this?" said the old woman; "I cannot hear, but I can see thy meaning; away! if threats and abuse be the reward of an old servant,—master, look to thyself.";

"Fool!" cried the man, "thou canst prove nothing but thine own deep guilt. Thou canst not bring crime home to me. I defy thee! Beware how I am tempted!"

"Be not too secure of me," replied old Jessamine; my conscience may some day be as brisk as thine now is. But not yet, -not yet."

Sir Richard turned from her to where Curts was sitting: "That hag is in my way," said he, desperately; "wouldst thou earn gold?"

"It shall be done," said Curts; "I understand."

But old Jessamine also understood the gesture.

"Well," said Maybird, "this is curious conversation, truly! The cream of the matter is to me perfectly unintelligible. But I see not yet for what reason I was called?"

"Very true," said Curts, "we are wrong to wander thus: Sir Richard summoned us, what would he have?"

"Why," cried Sir Richard, "must I daily name the task on