FROM THE BENNO LOEWY LIBRARY COLLECTED BY BENNO LOEWY 1854-1919 BEQUEATHED TO CORNELL UNIVERSITY Cornell University Library PR 5732.N9 1871 Now and then. 3 1924 013 567 494 Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013567494 NOW AND THEN. THROUGH A GLASS, DARKLY. SAMUEL WAREEN, F.R.S., AUTHOR OF "THE MEECHANt's CLEKK,'' AND "THE DIARY OF A LATE PHYSICIAN." NEW YORK: HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, FRANKLIN BCIUAEE. TO EDWARD WALPOLE WARREN, ejis fflffiorft f« KnscriieD, AS A TOKEN OF LOVB, HIS FATHER. I^md07t, December I9th, 1847. NOW AND THEN. CHAPTER I. Somewhere about a hundred years ago (but in which of our good kings' reigns, or in which of our sea-coast counties, is needless to be known) there stood, quite by itself, in a parish called Milverstoke, a cottage of the better sort, which no one could have seen, some few years before that in which it is pre- sented to our notice, without its suggesting to him that he was looking at a cottage quite of the old English kind. It was most snug in winter, and in summer very beautiful; glistening, as then it did, in all its fragrant loveliness of jessamine, honeysuckle, and sweet-brier. There also stood a bee-hive in the center of the garden, which, stretching down to the roadside, was so filled with flowers, especially roses, that nothing whatever could be seen of the ground in which they gi'ew ; wherefore it might well be that the busy little personages who occupied the tiny man- sion so situated conceived that the lines had fallen to them in very pleasant places indeed. The cottage was built very sub- stantially, though originally somewhat rudely, and principally of sea-shore stones. It had a thick, thatched roof, and the walls were low. In front there were only two windows, with dia- mond-shaped panes, one above another, the foiTner much larger than the latter — the one belonging to the room of the building, the other to what might be called the chief bedroom ; for there NOW AND THEN. were three little dormitories — two being small, and at the back of the cottage. Close behind, and somewhat to the left, stood an elm-tree, its trunk completely covered with ivy, and so effect- ually sheltering the cottage, and otherwise so materially con- tributing to its snug, picturesque appearance, that there could be little doubt of the tree's having reached its maturity before there was any such structure for it to grace and protect. Be side this tree was a wicket, by which was entered a little slip of ground, half garden and half orchard. All the foregoing formed the remnant of a little freehold property, which had be- longed to its present owner and to his family before him for sev- eral generations. The initial letter (0C) of their name, Ayliffe, was iiidely cut in old English character in apiece of stone form- ing a sort of center-facing over the dooiTvay ; and no one then living there knew when that letter had been cut. The present owner of the cottage was Adam Ayliffe, once a substantial, but now a reduced yeomen, well stricken in years, being at the time now spoken of not far from his sixty-eighth year. The crown of his head was bnld, and very finely formed ; and the little hair that he had left was of a silvery color, verging on white. His countenance and figure were very striking to an observant be- holder, who would have said at once, " That man is of a firni and upright character, and has seen trouble" — all which was indeed distinctly written in his open, Saxon features. His eye was of a clear blue, and steadfast in its gaze ; and when he spoke, it was with a certain quaintness, which seemed in keep- ing with his simple and stem character. All who had ever known Ayliffe entertained for him a deep respect. He was of a very independent spirit, somewhat taciturn, and of a re- tiring, contemplative humor. His life was utterly blameless, regulated throughout by the puiifying and elevating influence of Christianity. The excellent vicar of the parish in which he lived reverenced him, holding him up as a pattern, and pointing him out as one of whom it might be humbly said. Behold an Israelite indeed^ in whom is no guile. Yet the last few years of his life had been passed in great trouble. Ten years before had occuiTed, in the loss of his wife, who had been every way worthy of him, the first great sorrow of his life. After twenty years spent together in happiness greater than tongue could tell, it had pleased God, who had given her to him, to take her away — suddenly, indeed, but very gently. He woke one morning, when she woke not, but lay sweetly sleeping thf NOW AND THEN. sleep of death. His Sarah was gone, and tlienceforth his gi'eat hope was to follow her, and be with her again. His spirit was stunned for a while, but murmured not, saying, with resigna- tion, " The Lord hath given, and the Lord hath taken away : blessed be the name of the Lord." A year or two afterward occurred to him a second trouble, gi'eat, but of a diffeient kind. He was suddenly reduced almost to beggary. To enable the son of an old deceased friend to become a collector of public rates in an adjoining county, Ayliffe had unsuspiciously become his surety. The man, however, for whom he had done this Berwce, fell soon afterward into intemperate and dissolute hab- its ; dishonesty, as usual, soon followed ; and poor Ayliffe was horrified one evening by being called upon, his principal having absconded, a great defaulter, to contribute to repair the defi ciency, to the full extent of his bond. At the time of this sad event Ayliffe was the freehold owner of some forty or fifty acres of ground adjoining his cottage, besides some sums of money advanced upon mortgage to a neighbor, the interest of which he was setting apart for a purpose which will be present- ly mentioned. But all was suddenly sacrificed : not only the small accumulation of interest, but the principal from which it nad grown, and not only that but more than half of his land had to be sold, to make good the loss for which he had so unhappi- ly become liable. This stroke seemed to prostrate poor Ayliffe, not only on account of his severe pecuniary loss, but his cruelly betrayed confidence. Nor was this all : his favorite purpose had been suddenly defeated, that purpose having been to make a provision for the maniage of his only child, a son, called after himself, Adam, being the fifth Adam Ayliffe, father and son, during as many generations. That grand object was now unat- tainable; and father and son shortly afterward experienced a bitter proof of the too frequent fickleness of earthly friendships. The girl whose hand had been pledged to young Adam, readi- ly broke off the match at her parents' desire ; and she being very pretty, and they so well to do in the world as would have enabled them with ease to set Adam Ayliffe and their daughter comfortably going in life, little difficulty was found in obtaining a successor to poor Adam, in a thriving young farmer, whom she had actually jilted in his favor; for Adam was not only of an old family, and would succeed to no inconsiderable heredita- ry property, but was at once one of the finest young fellows in the county; with a handsome countenance, of a most engaging «0W AND THEN. frankness, a figure tall and well formed ; possessed of surpassing activity and strength, and of a daring and reckless courage. In all manly exercises he excelled every competitor ; and as to his feats at singlestick, they were famous in several adjoining coun- ties. Every one liked Adam Ayliffe : he had a laugh and a good word for all whom he met, would do any thing to oblige any body ; and seemed not to know that there was such a thing in the world to be looked after as — self It was every where said that a handsomer couple than Adam and Phoebe would make was not to be seen. But, poor soul ! all his prospects were, as has been seen, suddenly blighted; and Phoebe's heartless desertion hurt him far deeper than he cared for the poverty, with its humiliating incidents, into which he and his father had so unexpectedly been plunged. His buoyancy of spirits had fled forever ; but the manly strength and simplic- ity of character, which he seemed to have inherited from his fa- ther, remained. Much iof that father's pious teaching it took to soothe the ruffled spirit of his son. Long was it before any one could exchange a smile with Adam Ayliffe the younger. Alas ! what a contrast used now to be, between father and son going formerly together arm in arm to church, the one vsdth his great walking-stick, broad hat, and long, rough blue coat, and face of grave, but not austere, composure ; the other gayly clad, and his hat somewhat jauntily set upon his curly nut-brown hair, nodding to this one, and smiling to the other, and taking off his hat to the elder ones ! As father and son would stand suddenly uncover- ed while the reverend vicar passed or met them, on his way into the church, his heart yearned toward them both : he thoroughly loved and respected them, and was in a certain way proud of two such specimens of the English yeoman : and, above all, charmed with the good example they set to all his other parish- ioners. Now the vicar had from Adam's boyhood entertained a liking for him, and had personally bestowed no inconsiderable pains upon his education, which, though plain, as suited his po- sition, was yet sound and substantial. Greatly concerned had been the vicar at the disasters befalling the Ayliffes ; nay, he se- cretly went so far as to make an effort to reclaim the fickle Phoebe, but in vain — it was plainly not to be ; and then the vi- car sought to satisfy the disappointed suitor, that he might de- pend upon it all would turn out for the best.. The Rev. Hei;ry Hylton, M.A., at the time now spoken of, had been Vicar of Milverstoke for nearly twenty years. It NOW AND THEN. was a Cambridge College living of about 66300 a-year ; the first that had fallen to his choice, after he had obtained his fellowship, to which, in conseciuence of his distinguished de- gree, he had been elected almost unanimously. He was a man of good family, powerful intellect, of accurate scholar- ship, deeply read in divinity, of great decision of charactei', and lofty independence of spirit, and fervent piety. He, too, was naturally of a cheerful disposition, but had been saddened by domestic affliction ; for marrying, shortly after coming to the living, a woman every way fitted for her post, being of' a sweet and most amiable temper, they had had five children, all of whom had died except the youngest, a little girl, for whom it may easily be believed that they entertained an anxious love, passing expression. After young Adam's troubles had come upon him, by way of occupying or diverting his attention, Mr. Hylton would have him often to the parsonage on some kind pretext or other ; one of them being to copy out some old sermons, the manuscript of which had become too small to be read in the pulpit conve- niently, Mr. Hylton's eyesight not being as clear and strong as it had been originally. Thus it was that Adam came to be constantly thrown into the way of a certain maid of Mr. Hyl- ton's — Sarah, whose history was short, but not uninteresting. She had been left an orphan when young by a poor widow, a parishioner of Milverstoke, who had died seven years before ; and Mrs. Hylton, having taken a liking to the girl, had her car- ried, about her fourteenth year, to the parsonage, and brought up under her own eye and that of her housekeeper. Sarah proved a good and grateful girl, and became very useful, being a thoroughly good needle-woman, and very discreet and intel- ligent ; in short, she was a great favorite with both Mr. and Mrs. Hylton. Though her countenance was very pleasing, it could not properly be called pretty ; its expression was pensive and thoughtful ; her voice was very soft, and pleasant to hear; and her figure excellent and well-proportioned. Now Adam and she were often thrown together ; for he used to sit in the housekeeper's room in the evenings, copying out Mr. Hylton's sermons, none else being present than the housekeeper and Sa- rah ; and no one can wonder if he often talked of what had happened to him, particularly touching Phoebe. The good housekeeper pronounced her a hussy, who would live to repent ht r shameful conduct, and assured Adam that there were quite 10 NO W A ND T il E N. as good fish in the sea as had ever come out, Adam all the while listening in silence, or with a sigh, and shaking his head. The last observation, however, imperceptibly grew more grate- ful to his feelings whenever it vs^as repeated. At length it oc- curred to him that Sarah, who was never very voluble, always preserved silence when such topic, or any thing akin to it, was introduced, and looked very steadily at her needlework. One's own heart helps on the natural result of all this. On one such occasion as that which has just been referred to, Sarah ventured to lift up her eyes for an instant from her work, glanced timid- ly at Adam, whom she imagined to be busy writing; but, be- hold ! he was looking in silence, and rather earnestly, at her. Thus was kindled the first spark of love between Adam and Sarah ; and, after several years' quiet courtship, long discour- aged, but never absolutely, by both Mr. and Mrs. Hylton, Ad- am maiTied Sarah from the parsonage, with fiill consent of all persons concerned — his own father, and Mr. and Mrs. Hylton — and then took her home to the cottage, where old Adam Ay- liffe welcomed them with a solemn and affecting benediction, as he kissed the pale cheek of the meek and trembling new comer, that was quite patriarchal. " Daughter-in-law," said he, " I am poor, so is this youi husband ; and we may become poorer : but here is that which will make those rich that rely on il. Give me thy hand, Sarah, and thine, Adam," said he, solemnly, and placed them, with his own, upon the cover of an old family Bible : " Promise, with the blessing of Him that gave us this Book, never to look be- yond it, in trouble, nor then to forget it. Thus promised my Sarah when God gave her to me, who hath since taken her away again." The old man's voice trembled, but failed him not. Then he tenderly embraced both his son and daughter-in-law, who wept much, and they sat down to their frugal repast with such cheer- fulness as they might. Adam and his son had, for some time, betaken themselves to labor for their subsistence ; and on this marriage taking place, both found it necessary to redouble their exertions, in order to meet their augmented expenditure ; for small as it might be at nrst, prudence warned them to prepare against any probable increase of it. Bitter, bitter was it to young Aylifie, when first he saw his venerable father enter into the capacity of a hire- ling ; but not so with his father, who heartily thanked God fol NOW AND THEN. 11 .he strength that he still had, and the opportunity of profitably exerting that strength. To the necessity for doing so he had long become zeconciled. These three were the sole occupants of the cottage : and Mrs. AylifFe, being herself, as one might say, neatness personi- fied, felt a keen and anxious pride in keeping her pretty resi- dence in fitting order. Often, however, when her husband and father-in-law were absent at their labor, to which they would sometimes go very early and return very late, she thought with trembling solicitude about the future ; for in due time there was the prospect of her becoming a mother. The sight of her venerable father-in-law thus daily going to and returning from liis labor, at a time when he ought to be enjoying the repose suited to his years, gi'eatly distressed her sensitive feelings ; and sometimes she would secretly reproach herself for having added even- a straw's weight to his burdens, by becoming the wife of his son. That son, however, loved her tenderly ; and with, perhaps, a longer, lasting affection than ever he might have entertained for her whose place she had so unexpectedly come to occupy. Both he and his father engaged themselves in their labors with sustained alacrity. But, after about a year and a half's severe and constant exertion, in the ordinary out-door op- erations of farming, it told more -heavily on old Adam's physi- cal powers than he had calculated upon, and to his grievous mortification the doctor at length positively forbade his resum- ing work of any kind for several months to come. So the old man was obliged to lay up ; and also to incur considerable ex- pense by medical attendance, rendered indispensable by a cer- tain serious injury, which 'strong exertion, at his time of life, was but too sure to occasion. About a year after her marriage, poor Mrs. Ayliffe brought her husband, at the peiil of her own life, a son. She had, in- deed, a terrible time of it, and did not quit her bed for three months, nor the cottage for two months after that, during the whole of that period being quite unable to manage her house- hold affairs — small, it was true — but requiring, nevertheless, constant attention, especially to secure any degree of comfort. Alas ! how were all these sadly increased exigencies to be en- countered ? There was but the labor of young Ayliffe, itself producing no great results, but still sufficient, with good man- agement and frugality, to supply their daily necessities ; there being, foitunately, no rent to be paid for the house in which 12 NOWANDTHEN. they lived. But how long might that be the case 1 For already had arisen the sad necessity of parting with another portion of the land which still constituted the family property. It had cost old AylifTe a bitter pang to part with an acre ; yet had he been obliged to do so, and was now again driven to repeat the sacrifice. All hitherto sold had been purchased on account of the Earl of Milverstoke — a nobleman of ancient lineage and vast possessions, whose principal country residence, Milverstoke Castle, a most magnificent structure, stood at only some two miles' distance from Ayliffe's cottage. Much must presently be said of this distinguished personage, for such, indeed, he was, even were it only in respect of his great talents, and the high political position which he had occupied. Suffice it at present to say, that the earl did not give himself much pei'sonal concern with the management of his estates, but devolved it upon others — upon agents resident where his properties were situate, and all of whom were under the control of one principal who lived in London, and was a person of no little importance, fi:om the nature and extent of the influence and authority which he enjoyed and exercised. The earl's local agent at Milverstoke was Mr. Oxley, formerly a land valuer in the adjoining county, a shrewd and energetic man, devoted to the earl's interests, but occasionally acting in a way that was not likely to secure to his noble employer the good-will of those who were connected with him as tenants or neighbors. It was Mr. Oxley who had ne- gotiated the purchase of the land which old Ayliffe had been forced to sell in consequence of the villainy of the person for whom he had become bound ; and Jhe object of Mr. Oxley, in making that purchase, was the furtherance of a scheme which he had for some time had in view, and which had met with the earl's own approbation, of making a new approach to the Castle through the woods at the back of it, instead of the present road, which was somewhat inconvenient with reference to the highway, and very circuitous. This object could not, however, be attained, unless all the remaining property of AylifFe could be acquired by the earl — whose agent had teased Ayliffe on the subject to an extent which only one of so well-regulated a temper as his could have tolerated with any thing like calmness. The new road to the castle, it was intended, should pass exactly over the present site of the cottage, which, therefore, had long been a very grievous eyesore to Mr. Oxley, as a monument at once of his own abor NOVVANDTHEN. 13 live negotiation, and Ayliffe's dogged obstinacy. In vain the old man earnestly told him that it would break his heart to be separated forever from the property of his fathers — to see their residence pulled down, and all trace of it destroyed ; in vain did the matter-of-fact man of business hear that Ayliffe had solemnly promised his father, on his death-bed, not to part with the cottage so long as he had a crust of bread to eat in it, and a son to succeed to it. Mr. Oxley largely increased, and finally doubled, his original offer, on hearing these cunning — fo.- such to him they appeared — ^pretexts urged so pertinaciously ; but Ayliffe was not to be tempted : and his resolution irritated Mr. Oxley the more, because the latter, not dreaming of such an obstacle, had somewhat rashly pledged himself to the earl, that his lordship might depend upon the new road to the castle being laid dovtm, by a day which had — long passed by. A last and desperate effort was made by Mr. Oxley, on behalf of his noble principal — who little dreamed of the real state of the case, or, high-minded as he was, he would have sacrificed a thousand acres of his richest land rather than have sanctioned the ungi-acious and unwarrantable proceedings attempted on his behalf. But his lordship had only recently made Milver- stoke his constant residence, on his somewhat sudden retirement from public life, and possibly knew little or nothing of what went on in his name, and professedly on his behalf; and as for A.yliffe and his property, the earl knew little more than that ■.here was a small freeholder of that name living at a short dis- I know not how it came hither ; nay, I will not, Adam, lest we get into trouble, and do anger God !" These last words made her husband glance suddenly toward her as if he would have spoken ; but he restrained himself, and they retired to their little room. Poor old Ayliffe's words overnight were prophetic. Scarcely had they sat down to their scanty breakfast, the next morning, when two constables entered the cottage, with a warrant against young Ayliffe for poaching. The sad truth was, that he had been entrapped into accepting the hare as a gift, by one who, having sent a companion to watch him home with it, went im- mediately to inform against him, in order to get half the pen- alty, if any were awarded ; and who should be at the justice's, on some matters of business, when the warrant was applied for, but Mr. Oxley, who quickly saw what a lever this occurrence afforded him, wherewith to force the Ayliffes into surrendering their cottage, and so allowing the long-sought improvements in the earl's estate to be at once efiectuated. The prisoner at N O W 4 N D T H B N. 27 first was about to resist, infuriated by a faint shriek of his wife, who fell senseless into the arms of the agitated old father ; and had the young man resisted, in spite of the staves of the con- stables, his prodigious strength would have made him their match — and who could have answered for the result ] — ^but a miserable groan from his father, accompanying the words, " Go, lad ! go, and I'll follow thee presently !" brought him to his senses ; and he peaceably, but despairingly, accompanied the officers. The only words which he uttered to them, were a request not to go thi'ough the village, and they complied. The matter would soon have been settled at the justice's, be- fore whom the case was proved in a trice, AylifTe confessing that he had had the hare in his possession (the oifense with which he stood charged), and honestly telling what had passed between him and his old father on the subject. The punish- ment was a penalty of five pounds, or three months' imprison- ment in the House of Correction. " I have not five farthings," said AylifTe, desperately ; " and if I go to prison, it will go hard with my poor vdfe— that's all!" The magistrate looked at him very kindly, and read him a serious lecture on the consequence of listening to bad advice, and the heinous nature of an offense against the game laws ; which, his worship said, were the only things that prevented the countiy from becoming, barbarous ; on which account the law was properly very strict — but| alas ! not half strict enough to put down the enormous vice of poaching. While this and much more was being said, some one, at the instance of Mr. Oxley, who dared not be seen by the prisoner personally, offered to pay the penalty of five pounds, if his father would promise to sell his cottage to the Earl of Milver- stoke. "No! I'll rot in jail first!" said young AylifTe, fiercely. " Mayhap I now see how I got here !" This he said with a strange expression. At this moment arrived Mr. Hylton, accompanied by old AyUfTe, who, on his son being taken away, had gone to the parson, and told him every thing that had happened ; and so moved him by his aitlessness and misery, that Mr. Hylton took five pounds with him, and borrowing a gig from the surveyor in the village, drove ofT in it, accompanied by old Ayliffe, and 28 \OWANDTHEN. arrived at the magistrate's just in time to save young AylifFe from being committed to prison for three months according to the statute. " I have reason to believe," said Mr. Hylton to his brother magistrate, " that this poor soul has fallen into a trap set for him, and hath done it ignorantly, and from love of a sick wife, and I will pay the penalty for him." At this young Ayliffe could not restrain himself, but wept bitterly. " I wish," said his worship, " it were fitting for me to join in paying this fine, or that I could remit it ; but my duty is im- perative." So this sad affair ended. Mr. Hylton very sternly desired young Ayliffe to attend at the parsonage at nine o'clock the next morning, and then drove home the elder Ayliffe, who could scarce speak for soitow. " This five pounds," said Mr. Hylton, " is not a light matter to me, for I can not get in my tithes without great trouble, and neither of you will be able, I fear, to repay it me ; that, how- ever, I ask not, but freely forgive your son, whom I will, with God's blessing, read a lesson in the morning that he shall not forget" With this they alighted at the parsonage, where old Ayliffe was obliged to swallow a little refreshment ; and then he made his way to his desolate cottage, where he was some two hours afterward joined by his son, wearied with a fourteen miles' walk, and the agitation and mortification of the day. No re- proaches had he to encounter from his father, whom he found on his knees in his bedroom, with his hands clasped over his heart ! By nine o'clock on the morning ensuing, young Ayliffe was standing in the library of Mr. Hylton, who was greatly moved when he saw the woe-struck face of the culprit. " I am not going to make a mighty business of this Adam," said Mr. Hylton, after compelling him to sit down, "because I see that you feel deeply the vyi'ong that you have done. You knew better, Adam, and terribly forgot yourself; and see the consequences ! Your father never had to bow his good head with shame before yesterday, and then through no fault of his ; and your wife, I dare say, has suffered not a little on this account." Ayliffe's lip quivered, and presently his tears could not be any longer forced back. NOWANDTHEN. 29 " How is she, Adam, this morning V said Mr. Hylton, gen- tly. After a few moments' pause, AylifTe faltered, " Terribly ill, sir!" " I was afraid of this ; but we must look after her ; and Mrs. Hylton is by this time there, with some small matters suitable for her situation." "Sir — sir!" said Ayliffe, with sudden vehemence, after forcing down emotions which seemed likely to choke him, "you are killing me ; I can not bear it — you are too good, and I must go away — I can not look you in the face, sir ! I'm quite heart- broken, sir!" " Give me your hand, Adam," said Mr. Hylton, rising and approaching him. " You are restored to my good opinion ; great allowances were to be made for you; and I believe that you acted from mere love to a suffering wife. And now, Adam," continued Mr. Hylton, opening a drawer, and taking out a letter, " see how nearly you have seriously injured your- self — and yet what a prospect there is of better days for you ! Here have I been doing all that I could to get you made the master of a school in the next county, and this letter tells me how nearly I had succeeded, when, behold ! you are suddenly a convicted poacher ! I have fears that you have undone all j but hope that what passed yesterday has not yet been carried into the next county. I am going to the rector, who is an old friend of mine, to tell him the true state of the case, and what great allowances ought to be made for you. He is a very feel- ing man, and I may prevail on him to give you the place that I have so long striven to get for you ; but it must be only by and by, when this matter may be somewhat blown over. I have to prepare for my Sunday duty, and it is inconvenient for me to leave home ; yet this thing is so urgent, and so much for your good, that I am going to ride over this very day — nay, my horse and saddle-bags are even now being got in readi- ness." It is in vain to attempt describing the feelings of mingled gratitude, fear, hope, and vexation with which all this was list ened to by Ayliffe. "You know I am dealing kindly by you," continued Mr Hylton ; " and now make me, and keep when you make it, a promise, that you will never, knowingly, speak again to a poach- 30 N O W A N D T 11 E N. er, or receive game from him, or by means of him; uor let any unlawfully come into your hands or your house." "As I'm a true man, sir, for all that's happened, I never wU], sir; even though we be all starving!" replied Ayliffe, with energy. " God will not permit you to starve, Adam, depend upon it : you shall not, at least, while we live at the parsonage ; so now, my poor friend, go back home, and comfort your wife and fa- ther as well as you may. I have a very long day's ride before me." So they parted. About ten minutes afterward Ayliffe, trudg- ing homeward, was overtaken by Mr. Hylton on horseback, in traveling trim, having thus made good his word, and being al- ready on his errand of goodness. " G-od bless you, Adam," said he, as he passed smartly along. " God Almighty bless you, sir ! — and thank you !" faltered Ayliffe, almost inaudibly, taking off his hat, and gazing bare- headed after his benefactor till he was hid from his sight. How little either of those two thought, at that moment, of what was ordained to happen before they met again ! When Ayliffe reached the cottage, he found that Mrs. Hylton had not long before quitted it, having spent half an hour by his wife's bedside, and left with her two bottles of cowslip, and one of port-wine, together with some rice, tea, sugar, two rabbits, and nearly a quarter of a cheese, all of which had been most sympathizingly carried by the servant who accompanied her, and who had known Mrs. Ayliffe in her happier days at the par sonago. When Ayliffe was aware of the visit of these gentle benefactors, he stood gazing in tearful silence at the prints of their slender feet, in tlio snow, homeward ; and his heart was so full that he could have fallen down and kissed them, as trace's of an angel's visit. The next morninjif he presented himself, as usual, to his em ployers ; who, however, rejected his services, having heard of the atiocity of which he had just been convicted, and being, moreover, directly iindcr the influence of Mr. Oxley, from whose noble master the haic had been purloined which lay buried be- hind the cottage; having attained thereby a distinction possibly never confen-ed upon hare before. Three days elapsed before Mr. Hylton returned, and when he did, it was. with a sad countenaiico ■ fur liio friend had, not un- NOWANDTHEN. 31 reasonably, deemed the conviction for poaching to be an insu- perable obstacle in the way of receiving Ay liffe as -the master of the newly-established school. Still the resolute kindness of Mr. Hylton led him to persevere, though with faint hopes, and he determined to get up, if possible, a memorial in favor of poor Ayliffe's irreproachable character from the leading people' in the village. On the Sunday, Mr. Hylton observed that young Ayliffe was absent fi'om church,. and sent the clerk at the close of the service to old Ayliffe, who was in his usual place, but with a very dejected look, desiring him to attend for a moment in the vestry. When he appeared, Mr. Hylton shook him warmly by the hand, told him of the disappointment which he had experienced ; and seemed much affected when the old man told him that it was pure sharne only that bad kept his son from church, seeing that all present would have had their eyes on him. Mr. Hylton also' heard with anxiety that the young man had continued in a "very moody humor, and had let fall, as he had supposed unnoticed by his father, certain expressions which had somewhat disquieted him, for they were of an unforgiving nature. " Talk you to him, Ayliffe," said Mr. Hylton, earnestly, " and in a day or two's time I will come and speak to him. But 1 wish first to see whether I may yet be able to bring you news about the school." And Ayliffe did talk to his son often and seriously; and so were they engaged, on the evening but one before Christmas, when a rumbling sound, corning fi-om the direction of the high- road, which ran at only, a^ little distance from the front of the cottage, caused both of them" to walk toward the door, where they stood, just as a coroneted traveling carriage and four (fol- lowed by two others) turned the comer, being that of Lord Alkmond, the only son and, heir of the Earl of Milverstoke. coming down to the castle for the Christmas holydays. " Stay and pay respect to the young lord," quoth the old man t(j his son, prepai-ing to uncover. " Honor to whom honor is due !" " No — I vvdll not, if even thou, mine own father, went on thy knees," said his son, sternly, walking inward; while the old man, standing rigidly erect, respectfully took off his broad hat, exposing as fine a bald head, fi-inged with white hair, as ever hiid been uncovered to the young lord, who, catching sight of 32 N O W A N D T li E N. him, returned the courtesy in a hasty military fashion (for \<.> was an officer in the Guards) as they shot past. He knew no more than the beautiful boy whom he was at the moment fond ling, of the injurious and offensive proceedings of Mr. Oxley to ward the owner of that cottage. " There will be rare doings at the castle, I warrant me," said the old man, retiring into the cottage. " They be like to mak* a merry Christmas on 't !" — and he sighed. N O W A N D T H E N. 33 CHAPTER II. MiLVEKSTOKE Castle was a truly magnificent structure, wor- thy of its superb situation, which was on the slope of a great forest, stretching down to the sea-shore. Seen from the sea, es- pecially by moonlight, it had a most imposing and picturesque appearance ; but from no part of the surrounding land was it vdsible at all, owing to the great extent of woodland in which it was embosomed. The Earl of Milverstoke, then lord of that stately residence, had a personal appearance and bearing which might be imagined somewhat in unison with its leading charac- teristics. He was tall, thin, and erect ; his manner was compos- ed, his countenance refined and intellectual, and his features comely ; his hair had been for some years changed from jet-black into iron-gray. His bearing was lofty, sometimes even to re- pulsiveness ; his temper and spirit haughty and self-reliant. Op- position to his will, equally in great or small things, rendered that arbitrary will inflexible, whatever might be the consequence or sacrifice ; for he gave himself credit for never acting from im- pulse, but always from superior discretion and deliberation. He was a man of powerful intellect, extensive knowledge, and ad- mirably fitted for public affairs ; in which, indeed, he had borne a conspicuous part, till his imperious and exacting temper render- ed him intolerable to his colleagues, and objectionable even to his sovereign, from whose service he had retired, to use a courteous word, in disdainful disgust, some five years before being pre- sented to the reader. He possessed a vast fortune, and two or three princely residences in various parts of the kingdom. Of these Milverstoke was the principal ; and its stern solitude suit- ing his gloomy humor, he had betaken himself to it on quittinu public life. He had been a widower for many years, and, since becoming such, had become alienated from the distinguished family of his late countess, whose ardent and sensitive disposi- tion they believed to have been utterly crushed by the iron des- potism of an unfeeling and domineering husband. Whatever B* S4 N O W A N D T H E N. foundation there might have been for this supposition, it con- tributed to embitter the feelings of the earl, and strengthen a tendency to misanthropy. Still his character had fine features. He was most munificent ; the very soul of honor ; a perfect gen- tleman ; and of irreproachable morals. He professed a firm be- lief in Christianity, and was exemplary in the discharge of what he considered to be the duties which it imposed upon him. He would listen to the inculcation of the Christian virtues of humil- ity, gentleness, and forgiveness of injuiy, with a kind of stem complaisancy ; unaware, all the while, that they no more exist- ed within himself than fire could be elicited from the sculptured marble. Most of his daytime he spent in his library, or in soli- tary drives or walks along the sea-shore or in the country. Un- fortunately, he took no personal part, nor felt any personal in- terest, in the management of his large revenues and extensive private affairs, intrusting them, as has been already intimated, implicitly to others. When he rode through the village which lay sheltered near the confines of the woodland in which his cas- tle was situated, he appeared to have no interest in it or its in- habitants, though nearly all of them were his own tenantry. His agent, Mr. Oxley, was their real master. Mr. Hylton was one of his lordship's occasional chaplains, but by no means on intimate terms with him ; for that the vicar's firm, independent character unfitting him. While he acknowledged the commanding talents of the earl, his lordship was, on his part, fully aware of Mr. Hylton's strong intellect, superior scholar- ship, and the pure and lofty spirit in which he devoted himself to his spiritual duties. The good Vicar of Milverstoke knew not what was meant by the fear of man — and that his stately oarishioner had had many opportunities of observing; and, in short, Mr. Hylton was a much less frequent visitor at the castle than might have been supposed, and was at least warranted by his position and proximity. Possibly some of the earl's frigid resei-ve toward him was occasioned by the cordial terms of intimacy which had existed between him and the late countess — an excellent personage, who, living in comparative retirement at Milverstoke, while hei lord was immersed in pohtical life, had consulted Mr. Hylton constantly on the early education of her two children. The earl had married late in life, being nearly twenty years older than his countess, who had brought him one son and one daugh- ter. The former partook largely ot his father's character, but N O W A N D T H E N. 35 in a somewhat mitigated form : he was quicker in taking offense than his father, but had not his implacability. If he should succeed to that father's titles and estates, he would be the fir«t instance of such direct succession for nine generations : the earl himself having been the third son of a second son. The family was of high antiquity, and its noble blood had several times intermingled with that T H E N. 4 ] tioii, the bleeding body of the young peer was being carried into the castle by two dragoons, who trembled violently under their lifeless burden. By the time that Mr. Hylton, greatly agitated, had got into the village, all its startled inhabitants were at their doors, or standing in groups in the street, con- versing so intently together that they scarcely observed a troop of dragoons, fully armed, galloping past them toward the park-gate of the castle. Within a few minutes afterward, a portion of them galloped back again faster than before, follow- ing a person in plain clothes, who appeared to be leading the way for them. Woful to relate, their errand was to Ayliffe's cottage, which they reached a few moments afler young Adam Ayliffe had sprung into it, nearly striking dovsm the door as he entered, reeking with perspiration, with hoiTor in his face, breathing like a hard-run hare, and glaring blood-stains on one of his arms. His father, who was sitting beside a small candle, reading the Bible, shrunk from him, aghast and speech- less ; and young Ayliffe was uttering some incoherent sounds in answer to his father's inquiries, when the clattering of horses' hoofs was heard ; and the next moment four dragoons, carbine in hand, entered the cottage, while others remained outside, around the door, with swords drawn. "What do you want with me]" at length gasped young Ayliife, hoarsely, staring with haggard countenance at the soldiers. " Do you surrender to us, who demand it in the king's name ]" said one of them, the sergeant. Young Ayliffe started up from the seat on which he had thrown himself, and with a desperate effort, said, " Where's your authority to take me 1 This is my father's house !" " Raise but a finger to resist us, and we fire !" said the ser- geant ; and the three dragoons who were with him lowered their carbines. " What do you arrest me for V inquired Ayliffe, hoarsely. " When we have you in safe keeping, according to orders, you shall know," quoth the sergeant. At this moment Ayliffe's eye lighted upon the blood on his sleeve, and he gave a frightful start. " I know naught of it ! I am innocent — God be my witness !" he gasped, looking im- ploringly to the soldiers. At that moment was heard the sound of rapidly approaching horsefeet ; and presently a constable entered, with his staff 42 N O VV A N D T H E N. and approaching said — '-'Adam AylifFe, I arrest you for the murder of Lord Alkmond, in the wood, just now !" on which a loud groan issued from poor old Ayliffe, and then he fell senseless on the ground. In the sudden agitation and hon'or of the scene, had not been noticed a female head thrust hastily through the half-opened door, the moment after young Aylifi'e had rushed into the house, as has been described ; nor had any one observed or heard a dull sound, as of one falling ; but the miserable Mrs. Ayliffe had sunk on the floor of her room in a swoon, and never moved since. " Sally ! Sarah ! Where art thou ]" shouted young Ayliffe, wildly, making a motion toward the door ; but the constable proceeded to put handcuffs on him. " If thou stir a foot till these be on," said the sergeant, coolly, " thou wilt have lead in thee :" on which Ayliffe, with a bewil- dered stare, yielded himself to his captors, and shoitly afterward was gently forced fi:om the room, and assisted on the horse of one of the dismounted dragoons, who first withdrew the pistols from the holstei". The others instantly mounted, leaving the one whose horse was ridden by Ayliffe in the cottage to attend on old Ayliffe, who seemed in a fit ; and within half an hour the horror-stricken and half-stunned Ayliffe was safely lodged in the cage near the village, the troop which had escorted him remain- ing on guard around it, till relieved by orders from the barracks. An excited crowd of villagers soon gathered around the cage, but was kept at a distance by the dragoons, who would not allow even Mr. Hylton to approach it, though he came up to them greatly agitated, demanding admission as a magistrate. His right, however, was not recognized by the soldiers, who also listened with rigid indifference to the loud murmurs of the crowd around, expressing indignation at Mr. Hylton's rejec- tion. "Where did you take Adam Ayliffe — your prisoner^" he inquired, but received no answer. Mr. Hylton vvithdrew hastily. One of the officers, in full uniform, who had been dining at the castle in company with the late Lord Alkmond, rode up, and was, of course, duly saluted by the soldiers. " Is your prisoner secured ]" said he. "Yes, sir; handcuffed." " Did he resist 1" " No, sir." " Who is he V " Don't know, sir." N O VV A N D T H E N. 43 The officer cast a glance of hasty, but eifectual, scrutiny at the cage. He saw that it looked old, and was not overstrongly constructed. " No one," he whispered, " is to approach this place nearer than you, and I will send down some irons from the barracks immediately. Let him remain till further orders;" and with this the officer was galloping off, when a loud howl was heard from within the cage, curdling the very blood of the by-standers. " Open the door," said the officer, turning round his horse, and dismounting. Two soldiers dismounted, and stood, sword in hand, by their officer. " Stand back !" said he, quietly. The door was open- ed, and the sergeant, holding up the lantern in the doorway, dis- closed the figure of apparently a maniac, stiiking his forehead violently with the handcuffs. " Be quiet, sir, or you will be placed in irons," said the offi- cer, sternly. Ayliffe gnashed his teeth, and his bloodshot eyes glared fear- fully at the officer, who whispered to one of the men. The door was then closed, and the officer rode off at full gallop. Within half an hour's time the unfortunate prisoner was in irons, which had been sent down from the barracks. Mr. Hylton's Denevolent heart dictated another en-and to him : on being re- pulsed from the cage, he remounted his horse, and had ridden off to the cottage. Oh, what a scene he encountered ! The soldier who had been left there was, with a kind air, giving some water to the old man, who sat on the floor, apparently in a stupor. Beside him lay, huddled up near the fireplace, the poor child of the prisoner, still sobbing, having cried itself to sleep. A woman, whom the soldier had fetched from a neigh- boring cottage, was in the inner room, and, on Mr. Hylton en- tering, came out in weeping agitation, saying, " Poor soul ! I believe, sir, she is dead, and yet in labor !" " Oh, poor Mrs. Ayliffe ! Oh, poor Mrs. Ayliffe ! What's to be done 1" quoth Mr. Hylton. "I will go for the doctor;" and, as fast as his horse could carry him, he went. Who shall describe the scene going on at the castle in conse- quence of this awful event ] It seemed as though a thunderbolt had fallen upon them from heaven. AH was petrifying conster- nation and bewildei-ment. At the moment when the bleeding corpse of the young lord was being earned toward the castle. Lady Alkmond was gracefully dancing a minuet. The ball- room presented a very splendid appearance. Many officers 44 N O W A N D T H E N. were there ; the costume of the ladies was exceedingly beauti- ful; and the loveliest of the figures that wore it was the young Lady Emily, who that evening was making her first appearance in public. The Earl of Milverstoke had never appeared before to such great advantage : having dropped almost all his stern stateliness, he was a model of courtly ease and aiFability. Even the Duke of Bradenham, formerly one of his colleagues in the cabinet, was eyeing him with great interest, wondering how mollifying an effect had been produced, by retirement and re- flection, in the temper of the haughty, intractable peer, whom none of them had been able to tolerate in ofiice. The ghastly countenance of the groom of the chamber suddenly appearing at one of the large doors of the ball-room, where he whis- pered to the nobleman standing nearest, and vvho instantly fol- lowed him out, sufiiced to give token of something awful having happened. In a moment the dancing ceased ; the music was hashed ; hunied whispering was heard ; agitated faces were seen ; hurried gestures were observed ; and when Lord Milver- stoke quitted the apartment, with a face suddenly blanched and overspread with horror, amazement and terror reached their climax. Faint. shrieks and loud cries, and universal agitation, ensued throughout the castle ; and in a few moments more all was known, and Lord Milverstoke verging on madness. The banquet of that day had partaken of a military charac- ter, in compliment to Lord Alkmond; nearly twenty officers — all, in short, who happened to be within twenty miles of the castle — ^had been invited ; and the Earl of Milverstoke and several of the guests had quitted the room, leaving Lord Alk- mond and his brother officers around the dinner-table to them- selves. The conversation was for some time gay and animated, till accidentally a topic was introduced which only one or two perceived to be, for some reason or other, distasteful to Lord ■ Alkmond, who changed color, and immediately addressed the person next to him on some other subject. The general con- versation, however, continued on the topic alluded to ; and Lord Alkmond was at length observed by one next to him, an officer, to be disquieted ; he became silent, uttering suppressed sighs ; and at length all of them quitted the room to repair to the ball-room. Lord Alkmond was seen by some servants, di- rectly afterward, quitting the castle, with his hat on ; but this attracted no attention, since his lordship was frequently in the habit of taking solitary rambles in the woods. He walked fo/ N O VV A N D T H B N. 45 B time to and fro on the grand terrace ; then tluscended from it by a by-path into the wood ; and was not seen again till his body was brought into the hall, earned by the two dragoons (several of whom were gueals in the servants' hall), followed by two or three other persons, all of them greatly agitated. The nead keeper, with two othoro, had, while going his rounds in .he woods, heard suddenly a dull, heavy sound ; then that as of I person falling at some liltie distance ; then, steps, as of one unning. Continuing in tho same direction, they encountered I body stretched on the ground, and, to their inconceivable hor- ■or, recogniiied Lord Alkmond, wrapped in a great coat, bleed- ng profusely from a frightful blow on the side of the head, and ipeechless — motionless — -senseless-^DEAD. " Follow ! follow ! those steps ! There's some one run- 'ing!" exclaimed the head keeper. " Hollo ! There, there's the murderer !" all of them shouted riolently. The two who were in pursuit at length caught sight of the agure of a man, running with gi-eat rapidity, and who at one Dound cleared a wall, and got into the highroad, where he re- sumed running ; on which one of the two pursuers fired, but missed the fugitive. " Ha ! — I know him !" exclaimed one of the pursuers. " It's Adam Ayliffe !" and while the one who had not fired continued the pursuit the other ran to the barraicks, which were little more than a mile from that part of the road ; and the result was the capture of Ayliffe, as the monster who had done this deed of cruelty and horror. The next morning at an early hour the formidable prisoner was formally delivered up to the civil power ; but owing to the public excitement, which was every moment increasing, the military were requested to escort the prisoner to the justice-hall of the neighboring justice, who was the one that had adjudica- ted on the prisoner so short a time before, for the trifling de- linquency of which the reader has heard. The moment that the miserable man was seen, heavily ironed, stepping from the cage into the post-chaise which was to convey him to the magis- trate, a groan issued from the appalled by-standers — a gi-oan of mingled pity, terror, and wonder. Those who caught the nearest glance at the prisoner, from behind the horses of the dragoons, saw the blood on his left sleeve, and shuddered. Ayliffe's eyes were bloodshot, and his forehead was severely 46 NOWANDTHEN. bruised, and much swelled, with the blows which he had given himself overnight ; his lips were tightly compressed together, and he uttered not a syllable to the officer who accompanied him. In another chaise were the clerk of the peace and Mr. Hylton, the latter intending to be present in his magisterial ca- pacity. They set off at a rapid pace, preceded and followed by the dragoons. Their road lay past Ayliffe's cottage, and as they approached it the prisoner became dreadfully excited. He sat upright, and stared with a half-frenzied eye as they passed. A woman had just quitted the cottage with a child covered up under her red cloak ; it was the infant son of the prisoner, whom she was taking to her own home for a while, at Mr. Hylton's request, the mother lying desperately ill, and about to be taken to the infirmary the moment that it could be done with safety — if indeed her doom was not already sealed. The prisoner moaned heavily as they drove past, and sunk back, with a deep groan, in the chaise. There was already a considerable concourse around the gates of the magistrate's house, and it was deemed prudent for the military to remain till the proceedings were ovei". There were three magistrates present, including Mr. Hylton, who looked harassed and most unhappy. He had been up several hours during the night, in attendance at the cottage, where at that moment was Mrs. Hylton herself, in compassion- ate attendance on her suffering sister. When Ayliffe, heavily ironed, entered the justice-room, with a constable on each side, he seemed not to observe any one before him ; but presently his eye lit on Mr. Hylton, who sat at the table, his head leaning on his hand, which concealed his face from him. " Sir ! — Mr. Hylton !" shouted the prisoner, with frantic ener- gy, " could I do this thing that I am charged with ] No, no, no ! you know I could not !" Mr. Hylton unconsciously shook his head without removing the hand that supported it. Again the prisoner addressed him, with wild gestures and a loud, hoarse voice : " How's Sarah, sir 1 how's my wife ]" Again Mr. Hylton shook his head and remained silent, and the prisoner sunk down on the bench that was placed for him, his heavy irons clanking dismally. The hearing was not long, nor was much more disclosed than has been already told. The doctor, who had been summoned on the occasion, declared that death must have been instantaneous, for that the wound was NOW AND THEN. most frightful, and had been inflicted with a bludgeon, or some other heavy instrument. The blood on the prisoner's sleeve was pointed out ; at which he seemed suddenly roused from a sort of stupor; and Mr. Hylton observing it, instantly arose, and with an air of great agitation quitted the room, nor did he return again. " Have you any other evidence to adduce V said the magis- trate. " None, your worship." " Is any one else suspected ]" " Nobody at present, your worship ; but a strict inquiry is on foot." The justices' clerk then read over to the witnesses what had been taken down from their lips — the prisoner's haggard coun- tenance, and eyes fixed intently on the floor, showing that he was not attending to what was going on. When the depositions had all been read over, and signed by the witnesses, "Adam Aylifie," said the magistrate, "you stand commit- ted for the willfiil murder of the late Lord Viscount Alk- mond." "It is false ! I never murdered him ! I know naught about it : and you are all driving me mad !" said the prisoner, starting up and looking wildly at the principal magistrate, who calmly made out the warrant of committal ; and v/ithin an hour's time Ayliffe was safely lodged in jail, having been escorted by the dragoons, for fear of any sudden and desperate resistance being oflered by one of such formidable physical powers as the pris- oner. When the proceedings were closed, the two committing magistrates withdrew into another room, where was Mr. Hyl- ton, and the three had a long conversation on the mysterious and frightful transaction which had called them together official- ly that day. Mr. Hylton was asked with much interest by his brother magistrates concerning the passionate appeal which had been made to him by the prisoner, but said only, that to him it appeared an awful mystery; that the prisoner was by nature one of the frankest and best natured men in the world, and had been brought up by a father who was himself a very pattern of virtue and piety. "Ah!'^ said one of the magistrates, "there's something very fine in the character of old Aylifie ; I know a little of him." " What conceivable motive," commenced Mr. Hylton — " Stay," said the justice in whose house they were, dropping 4S N O \V A N D T H E N. his voice almost to a whisper — " you do not forget a former oc- currence in this justice-room some few days ago, Mr. Hylton, when you acted so very liberally V " Alas ! of what avail was it V said Mr. Hylton. " That is not what I mean," said the other ; " I heard a word or two from the prisoner on that occasion, which perhaps no one else did ; and he repeated what had caught his ear, unless he had been greatly mistaken, and about which he declared that he would make some private inquiry. He mentioned the words, and after a pause Mr. Hylton sighed, changed color a little, and shook his head. "Well, still," said he, "I can not believe he did this murder." On the ensuing evening sat the coroner's inquest at the inn in the village ; anil, having gone in several post-chaises to the cas- tle and seen the body of the murdered nobleman, which lay just as it had been brought in from the woods, and was a sight which none of them could ever forget, they heard substantially the same evidence which had been given before iho magistrates, and at once returned a verdict of willful murder against Adam AylifFe — all of them, on retiring to their various homes in the village and neighborhood, expressing amazement, horror, and deep sympathy for poor old Ayliffe and the prisoner's wife. The most rigorous inquiries elicited no circumstances which could throw any light on an event which soon occasioned ex- citement throughout the whole kingdom. The woods had been scoured all night long by soldiers from the barracks, con- stables, gamekeepers, villagers, and others, but in vain. ' There was nothing to afford a trace of the deed which had so re- cently been done but the dismal, crimsoned spot that had wit- nessed the mysterious and horrible occurrence which had sud- denly extinguished the mortal life of the next heir to the domains and dignities of Milverstoke, in the very flower of his youthful manhood. Poor Lord Alkraond was, when thus hast- ily smitten out of the land of the living, apparently possessed of almost every imaginable worldly advantage and guaranty for happiness. He was one of the handsomest men of his day ; his features were symmetry itself, at once refined and manly; he was tall and well-proportioned as his father; but his man- ner was infinitely more gracious and winning, at all events till latterly, when some strange spell seemed to have come over his spirits, such as even the lovely wife of his bosom — now, alas! his prostrate and broken-hearted widow — could neither N O W A N D T H E N. 4i) account for nor was permitted by him to inquire into*such as even only deepened before the stern solicitude of his father. How awful the obscurity which shrouded his sudden depart- ure ! impenetrable, -perhaps, forever to all but the eye of Him from whom nothing is hid ; of whose ordering are all things in perfect wisdom, not to be vainly or presumptuously questioned, and whose will it might be that this mysterious event should not be unraveled on earth. Beat your fair bosoms and bewail the departed ye loverly kindred of the dead, and of him, the living — deep in whose dark spirit is quivering an arrow from on high ! Let the light of heaven be shut out from yon gloomy and silent residence of the great ones of the earth, till their dead be buried out of their sight, and their stricken hearts may be enlightened, humbled, and consoled from on high! On Saturday was the burial. Lengthened was the funeral cavalcade, and many the noble mourners composing it, that wound its way slowly from the castle to the church at Milver- stoke, where a silent assemblage of awestruck beholders await- ed it. The chief mourner was the Earl of Milverstoke, tread- ing with firm step, his face of ashy whiteness — a world of woe in his dark eyes, and from his lips had fallen no sound since he had, overnight, ordered away the attendants fi'om the cham- ber of the dead, that he might himself the livelong night pace before the bier of his murdered son. He now followed into the church, and to the black entrance of the vault, the remains of his only son in grievous silence — ^in all the majesty of sor- row and suffering — seen by every beholder to be too great and awful to be approached or intenneddled with. Oh, with what solemnity was read the Service for the Dead, stirring the very soul alike of every great one, and humble one, who heard, that day, the voice of the minister of God ! Fain would Mr. Hyl- ten have devolved that sad office upon another ; but his duty was here plain, and, though with a voice sometimes- tremulous, he gave grand significance, because simple utfeance, to the eublime Burial Service of the Church. At a late hour in the evening there was delivered into the hands of the desolate and bereaved earl, by a special messen- ger from London, an autograph letter from the king, expressing very deep concern for his misfortune ; and, as far as he eould thence derive any consolation, the earl had abundant proof of the sympathy felt for him by the whole kingdom. On the evening after the capture of young Ayliife, occurred 50 NOWANDTHEN. a circiftnstance worthy of perpetual remembrance. Mr. Hyl- ton, inclement though the weather was, paid a visit to the late residence of the imprisoned malefactor, tenanted now by his miserable father, and alone. There, by the dim light issuing from the low fire, he beheld the old man knfeeling, absorbed in devotion, his large Bible lying before him, open on the floor. He scarcely noticed the enti-ance of Mr. Hylton ; but slowly rose on feeling the hand of Mr. Hylton gently squeezing his own, and hearing his friendly voice. The food which had been laid beside him early in the morning lay untouched, and the old man tottqyed, from evident faintness, while Mr. Hylton as- sisted him from his knees to the stool on which he had been sitting. Mr. Hylton poured out a little wdne which he had brought with him, and forced the old man to drink of it. After a while he pointed with a shaking finger to a distant part of the room. Mr. Hylton asked him what he meant. " A light, a light, sir!" said he. Mr. Hylton lighted a small candle which stood on a shelf over the fireplace, and, on going with it to the spot to which old Ayliffe had pointed, saw an object Bufiiciently startling : a thick oaken walking-stick, which had been brought in by his son on the evening of his capture; and, alas, on it were evident marks of blood ! " This is dreadful, AylifFe — dreadful, indeed," said Mr. Hyl- ton, laying it down with a silent shudder ; and neither he nor the old man spoke for some time, each actuated by conflicting .emotions. " It is strange ; hath not th6 cottage been searched V said Mr. Hylton. The old man shook his head. " No," said he, in a feeble tone; "that stick hath lain there ever since he came in; and" — he paused, and added, with a long-drawn sigh, " but for that book," pointing to the Bible, " that bloody witness had not been here -now." Mr. Hyltorf was silent. He was a magistrate, and his duty was painful, but plain. " AylifFe," said he, gloomily, " I am a magistrate." "I know thou art; and that book, and thy good • teaching from it, hath taught me ihy duty. There must lie that sad stick till it be sent for, if sent for it must be." ■ " Thou faithful servant of God," said Mr. Hylton, his eyes almost blinded with tears, rising and grasping in his hands those of the old man, who spoke not; "put thy trust in God. NOWANDTHKN. 51 who hath for His own wise purposes sent thee this terrible trial, and He will bear thee through it." " Ay, though He slay me," began the old man ; but his voice suddenly faileH him. " "Whether thy son be innocent or guilty, this stickmust ap- pear against him," said Mr. Hylton firmly, but mournfully; " and even were it by any accident not to he produced, yet have I seen it, and must, by force of conscience, tell that I have seen it." " No one shall touch it, sir, while I have strength to prevent it," said the old man, laymg his hand on the open Bible ; " and if, this concerning my son, I have done him wrong, God for- give me ; and if I do right, I pray thee, sir, give me thy prayers to help my trust and strengthen me." Mr. Hylton rose, and pronounced upon him a solemn ben- ediction ; and then sat opposite to him for some time in silence, lost in admiration of the old man's virtue, and troubled sorely at the duty which that virtue had just cast upon himself. " I would have given much, Adam, that it had been any other than myself who had come hither ^nd heard this," said he, at length; "but if thine unhappy son be innocent,, God may make it ap- pear so ; but, whether He do or not. His will be done. And He can not will that we should pervert or conceal truth !" " He doth support me now," replied the old man. Mr. Hylton gazed in silence, as though on some old patriarch or martyr, risen from the dead, to exemplify trust in the Al mighty. „~ The next day, alas, the dumb but dreadfiil witness was taken possession of by a constable under a search-warrant, and "delivered over to the proper authority. Mr. Hylton's painfiil share in the transaction was known to none but the committing magistrate, who passed a high eulogium on what he termed • the Spartan spirit of the father of the prisoner. On the Sunday succeeding the day of the funeral, the church ' wore a very impressive aspect. The pvijpit and reading-desk were hung in black ; so was the great family pew beloiiging to the castle, and untenanted; but one side of the gallery was nearly filled with a long array of the earl's domestics, in deep mourning. The church was unusually crowded Isy the sad- dened occupants of the village and neighborhood, and others who had come from far and wide, thinking that the vicar might, as was his custom on those which he deemed fitting oc- 52 NOW AND THEN. casions, make some allusions to the awful occurrence of the past week. Nor were they mistaken or disappointed.- Mer thinks one may now see that exemplary person in the pulpit, on that memorable, melancholy, and exciting occasion, resolved to turn it to the profit of those who were before him. He was not quite' as old as the Earl of Milverstoke, and of middle stat- ure. His hair was gray ; his face intellectual — somewhat care- worn, but of a most benevolent expression. He was a man of firm purpose, of stem integrity, of profound piety, and devoted to the duties of a parish priest. It was only his independence of character which had stood in the way, some years before, of his obtaining great clerical advancement. Here, however, lay his parish, the parishioners of which he loved — whose chil- dren's dust was intermingled with that of his own in the ad- joining church-yard. When he had entered the pulpit, and looked round upon his solemn congregation, his soul rose to the height of the occasion, and felt itself in unison with theirs. The fevv" words which formed his text fell, as he pronounced them, into the hearts of all present with fearful weight : " Boast not thyself of to-morrow ; for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth." His own feelings forced him to pause for some moments after he had uttered that divine injunction ; and there ensued, till his voice broke it, the silence of the grave. His sermon was brief, but weighty ; and the chastened severity of his judgment prevented any approach to indecorous directness of allusion. It was only toward the close of his most affecting and solemn address that his voice faltered as his eye lit upon an unexpected figure, in the furthermost comer of the gallery, old Adam Ayliffe ; who, with a stem consciousness of recti- tude of conduct, as far as concerned his fellow-creatures, and a lofty sense of what was at once his right and his duty toward Grod — to enter the house of God, with a heart which He had smitten, to pay his vows there. Alone had he come, and un- supported, though with limbs weakened by abstinence and the agitation of the week, to His Father's house. As he returned home, several offered him their arms, and kindly saluted him j but he spoke not a word to any ; and his silence deepened their sympathy for his sufferings, their reverence for his char- acter. When he arrived at the cottage to which his little grandchild had been taken, on its mother's removal in almost a dying state to the infirmary, he entered it, and seated him- N O W A N D T II E N. 6S ure. The child, recognizing him, stretched forth its little hand, and smiled ; on which the old man's pent-iip feelings gave way : " Nay, nay, lad, don't do-that ! thou'lt break my heart !" And the child seemed suiprised, and then somewhat alarmed, at the weeping of botli his grandfather and his nurse. " It doth not trouble thee much, I trust 1" at length saiii Ay- lifFe, quietly. " Nay, never at all ; never was there a quieter child ; 'tis content with whatever is given to it." " This was a terrible fall," said the old man, sadly, pointing to the child's shoulder. " Ay, it was ; and"^-sbe pointed to the little creature's left leg — " much it misgives me he walk lame." " Well, God's will be done !" said the old man ; and he leaned down and kissed its forehead tenderly, whHe his tears fell fast upon it. There was another grandfather looking, about the same time, at an infant grandson, with feelings which language can not express or describe. And there were also two mothers, whom it seemed to be the will of Heaven to remove forever from the eight of their children. On the third Sunday after the funeral, two figures in very deep mourning passed slowly along the aisle to the central pew in the parish church: they were the Earl of Milverstoke and his daughter. Lady Emily, whose beautiful but pale coun- tenance was almost entirely hid beneath a long, black veil ; and, on taking her seat, she was evidently suffering under strong emotion. No eye that saw the earl, as he followed after his daughter, had ever looked before on so affecting an object — a black monument of grief unutterable. His daughter had placed herself at a distance from the earl, wishing to avoid the sight of his pallid, wasted, and gloomy features, which bore deep and perhaps indelible traces of the sufferings which he had un- dergone. His was a morbid and haughty spirit, which would rather perish under the crushing pressure of misery than seek for any alleviation of it by communion with others. An ex- pression of sympathy was indeed intolerable to him ; and by a certain strange perversity of his nature, he appeared loth to lose sight, even for an instant, of the full extent of his wretch- edness. The bulk of the congregation were simple souls, who could not forbear gazing at him with a sort of subdued awe, which seemed to exclude all tendency to pity. He had rarely 54 N O W A N D T II E N. ever spoken to any of them, and they had attributed it to his natui'ally cold, stern habits, his occupation with high and im- portant matters, and son-ow for the death of his countess. A few there were who not unnaturally had attributed much of his apparent moodiness to sheer vexation, about high political mat ters, and anger and mortification at not having been appointed, some two years before, lord-lieutenant of the county. But there was not one present, even down to the very humblest, who had ever had just occasion to complain of the earl as a landlord, or as having ever turned a deaf ear to the cry of dis- tress ; and some were there whose eyes were constantly in tears, while gazing at the haggard and emaciated figure of their own munificent but secret benefactor. There also was one whom the noble moux'ner saw not, but whose eye was often occasionally upon him under an undefinable impulse-^old Ay- liffe. Possibly neither might have entered the church had he known that the other had been there. The earl was perfectly calm, and deeply attentive to the service. Mrs. Hylton's pew adjoined that of the earl ; and she was often in tears, for she several times heard stifled sobs from Lady Emily, but not one after the earl had whispered in a low, a kind, but peremptoiy tone, " Restrain your feelings, Emily, or we must retire." When the service was concluded, the earl and Lady Emily rose, and slowly walked down the aisle, before those in the body of the church had quitted their seats. This had not been observed, however, by old Ayliffe in the gallery, who,' desirous of quitting before the earl should have left his pew, had gone as quickly as his enfeebled limbs would allow him, down the stairs ; yet it actually so chanced that the two encountered each other immediately outside the little porch. The earl in- voluntarily stepped back for a moment, and heaved a mighty but inaudible sigh. Then he passed on to his carriage, and threw himself back in it with much agitation, which his daugh- ter did not then observe. Old Ayliffe, though it was snowing thickly, took off his hat and bowed ; trembling in_ every limb he yet stood as erect as the earl ; but, when the carriage had diiven off, he sat down for a moment on the nearest snow-cov- ered gravestone, as if staggering under the weight of his agi- tated feelings. Two farmers who were near kindly gave their arms to the troubled old man, and set him far on his way home. One of them had early in the week driven him to the county N O W A rJ D T H E N. 55 jail in his market-cavt, and thereby afforded the unhappy fa- ther, who had obtained the requisite order for that purpose, his first opportunity of seeing his imprisoned son, who was just recovering from a violent brain fever, and during his illness the doctor had peremptorily forbidden any interview between him and his fathei-. Old Ayliffe was very minutely searched by the turnkey before he was allowed to enter. He shook his head and sighed during the operation. " These be the orders of this place/' said the turnkey, gruff ly ; " poison and razors have been found, before now, on folks going in to see murder-prisoners !" Ayliffe trembled at the words. " No one, friend, that feared God would do so," said he. " I don't know that," replied the turnkey, " but now you are a safe man and may go in ;" and the next moment the heart- broken old man stood before his unhappy son. They were allowed to be alone for a short time, the doctor and the nurse of the prison being vrithin call, if need might be. The prisoner gently raised his father's cold hand to his lips and kissed it, and neither spoke for a few minutes j at length — "Adam, Adam!" said the old man, in a low, tremulous whisper, " art thou innocent or guilty V and his anguished eyes seemed staring into the very soul of his son, who calmly replied — " Father, before God Almighty, I be as innocent as thou art, nor know I who did this terrible deed." " Dost thou say it % Dost thou say it] I never knew thee to lie to me, Adam !" said his father, eagerly, half rising from the stool on which he sat ; " Dost thou say this before God, whom thou art only too likely" — he shuddered — " to see, after next assizes, face to-face ?" i " Ay, I do, father," replied his son, fixing his eyes solemnly and steadily on those of his father, who slowly rose and placed his trembling arms around his son, and embraced him in eilence. " How is Sarah ]" faltered -the prisoner, faintly. " Ask me not, Adam," said the old man, who quickly added, perceiving the sudden agitation of his son, "but she is not dead r she hath been kindly cared for." " And the lad ]" said the prisoner, still more faintly. " He is well," said the old man ; and the prisoner shook his 56 N O W AN p T EI E N. head in silence, the tears running down his cheeks through closed eyelids. At this point the doctor re-entered, apprehensive for the safety of his patient, and ordered the old man at once to with- draw, as he did, having tenderly kissed the -fevered forehead of his son. As the old man passed the governor's room, he was called in, and pffei-ed a glass of wine, which had been very kindly placed in readiness for him. " No, no, I thank thee, sir," said the old man, somewhat ex- citedly; "I need it not; I have just gotten a great cordial that hath warmed my heart !" " Ay, ay! who gave it thee ?" quickly inquired the governor. " My son, thy prisoner ! for he hath told me that he is inno- cent," said the old man, confidently. " Oh ! hath he V quoth the governor, gravely^ with melan choly significance ; and pressing the old man to take the wine, before again facing the bitter cold air, he was presently ushered out of the guarded and gloomy gates of the jail. When next he saw Mr. Hylton, he spoke of his son in the like confident tone in which he had spoken to the governor of the jail. " Adam, it is not his mere saying that he is innocent that wiU satisfy the judge and the jury at the coming assizes," said Mr. Hylton, very seriously ; " be not, my poor friend, over- sanguine, for the case has very, very black features in it, Adam. Has your son explained to you how he came into the wood just when he, did ? why he fled as for his life ] how he got the blood upon his coat and his stick ] Adam, Adam, these are terrible things to deal with; and — " he paused and seemed troubled — " there may be, for aught you or I know, otTier matters proved still blacker." Old Ayliffe listened to all this in silence, but his face whiten- ed visibly as Mr. Hylton proceeded. . " He's innocent, sir, for all that," at length said he ; " he never lied to me since he was born, sir ; and I trust in God that he will not let the innocent sufier for the guilty !" " So do I," replied Mr. Hylton, solemnly ; " but go you to the attorney whom we have engaged to take up the case on your son's behalf, and see what he says ; I, you must always remember, am a magistrate, and therefore desire not to hear what conscience might possibly hereafter force me to disclose." "Ay, ay, sir," said the old man, sadly, sighing deeply; " I see it, I know it ; appearances be against my son terribly ; but N OW A N D T H E N. 51 my lord judge will be a just man, and may find out my son's innocence though others may be unable to see it till then." That which greatly disturbed Mr. Hylton was the communi- cation which.had been made to him by the county magistrate, of the remark of young Ayliffe, in the matter of the hare, and which undoubtedly gave a dismal complexion to the present overwhelming case against him. Some short time after the first appearance at church, Lady Emily called upon Mrs. Hylton, whom she had always tender ly loved from her cbildhood, and was tenderly beloved in her turn. It was a painful interview, and both of them wept much. The poor girl's feelings had long been strung to the highest pitch of intensity, scarce ever relieved by communion with her -father, though he really loved her fondly. Partly owing to his nature, however, and partly from a belief that conversation would but make deep wounds bleed afresh, he rarely spoke to her on the subject of the event which had enveloped the castle in a gloom and desolation, which, to him, formed indeed a darkness that might be felt^ Besides all this, she was almost constantly an attendant on the miserable and heart-broken sis- ter-in-law. Lady Alkraond, whose recoveiy from the shock which she had sustained seemed to the last degree uncertain ; and that uncertainty and fear occasioned the earl an intolerable agony of apprehension, lest his infant grandson, now an object precious in his eyes beyond all comparison or expression, should be deprived of his surviving parent. What delight thrilled through the heart of Mrs. Hylton when she found the lovely creature before hef reverentially recognizing, in the disaster which had befallen her family, the ordination of the all-wise disposer of events, without a murmur, without a question ! " Thus you spoke to me, Mrs. Hylton, when my poor mam- ma was taken from us : thus she herself spoke to us a short time before she Aed ! I wish my dear papa saw these things so ; but he is always so stem and gloomy !" " Depend upon it, my dear, dear Lady Emily," said Mrs. Hylton, "that all whichhas happened may one day plainly ap- pear to us to have been for the best ; or it may please the Al- mighty never to. reveal his purposes to us." While they were thus talking Mr. Hylton rode up to the door, and, seeing the earl's carriage there, looked at the win- dow, and, recognizing Lady Emily, hastily uncovered and dis- mounted, leading his horse round to the stable. c* i8" NOW AND THEN. " Why do you change color, dear Mi-s. Hylton 1" said Lady Emily with surprise, preparing to go. " Shall I tell you where Mr. Hylton has been ?" said Mrs. Hylton, after a moment's pause. " Yes, if you please, unless there is an objection." " He has just been to the infirmary — " " What ! are you afraid of fever ? Don't fear for me," said Lady Emily, with a faint smile, but added, hastily, " Stay — ^I'e- member poor Lady Alkmond, whom I am with all day — and the dear child ! If any thing were to happen to it, I do be- lieve my papa would die outright ! for he almost trembles when he takes it into his arms for a moment !" " Oh no ! dear Lady Emily, there is no fever there at all, I believe. Mr. Hylton has been to see one of the most unfortu- nate beings on the earth." " Dear Mrs. Hylton, your looks alarm me — what do you mean 1 — who is it !" " Alas ! alas ! it is the poor innocent wife of — " Lady Emily changed color; "of that wretchq(i man who — " Lady Emily turned deadly pale, and trembled violently. Vain were her strong efforts to recover from the shock, and she at length swooned, to the great consternation of Mrs. Hylton. With the aid of the usual restoratives, however, she soon recovered ; on which she gazed on Mrs. Hykon with a look of agonizing af- fection and apprehension. • She lay in Mrs. Hylton's arms, with her raven tresses slight ly disturbed, and straying over her pale, but exquisitely beauti- ful features, Mrs. Hylton gently rearranging her truant locks, and fondly kissing her forehead as Mr. Hylton entered; and Mrs. Hylton motioned him to withdraw. " No, no, no !" said Lady Emily, extending her hand to him, " I am better now !" " What is all this 1" inquired Mr. Hylton, sufficiently surprised. " I rather suddenly told dear Lady Emily where you had been." " I am sorry for that, Mary," said he, rather displeasedly ; and he tenderly shook Lady Emily by the hand, and took his seat beside her. " How is the poor creature ]" she inquired faintly. "We will talk about this on some other occasion," said ho. But Lady Emily would not have the question thus parried, and repeated it. N O W A N D T H E N. 59 " She is certainly in a very sad state," said Mr. Hylton. " Is there any danger?" she inquired, slightly trembling. " My dear Lady Emily, you have suffering enough at the caa tie ; I can not add to what so oppresses you." " But how is this poor woman V she repeated firmly ; and Mr. Hylton's acute eye detected a momentary resemblance to her father's peremptory spirit. " She is, alas ! at death's door." Lady Emily remained for several moments silent, and visibly agitated. " What sort of a character has she borne ?" " Oh, poor soul !" interposed Mrs. Hylton, with sudden ener- gy, " she was one of the best, meekest, most self-denying Chris- tian creatures that I ever saw !" Again Lady Emily was silent. " She must not want for any thing, dear Mr. Hylton," said she suddenly. " She' is well cared for at our excellent infimjary ; and as for her unfortunate child — " " What ! child ! has she a child ]" said Lady Emily, bursting into tears. " Ay ; but such a poor, little, lame, injured creature !" Lady Emily wept bitterly. " May God protect it !" said she at length : " where is it 1" " It is taken care of by a woman at one of the cottages." "How old is it?" "About two years old." " Just the same age !" exclaimed Lady Emily, half uncon- sciously, and apparently falling into a momentai-y revery. "You said it was lame and injured ; how came it to be so, dear Mr. Hylton ?" " It was always a feeble child, and when not much more than eight months old had a sad fall, which nearly killed it, and ■ has left it lame for life, and a little defoimed in the back," said Mrs. Hylton. " How dreadfiil !" exclaimed Lady Emily, with a shuddei ♦'Are you sure that the poor little thing is with a careful woman V " Yes." " But who pays her to attend to it V " My husband," quickly repUed Mrs. Hylton ; not cgiing foi nis displeasure, and only too proud of his conduct. 60 N O W A N D T H E N. " I have ten guineas here," said Lady Emily, opening hei purse eagerly, and emptying its contents into Mrs. Hylton'a lap : " I don't want them ; I' have more money than I can use ; and I will bring you fifteen more to-morrow ; and pray let both the mother and the child have proper attention paid to them." " My dear Lady Emily," commenced Mr. and Mrs. Hylton in a breath, " the half of what you have now given us will suffice for nearly a year." " Never mind, keep it all, and to-morrow I will give you the remainder ! It is really nothing to me, I assure you ; my dear papa is very, very liberal to me : I can not spend a tenth part of what he gives me." " Well, then, dear Lady Emily," said Mrs. Hylton, with energy, " I will be the almoner of your bounty, willingly and carefully." " But don't let it be known where this trifle comes irom, dear Mr. Hylton, lest my papa should happen to hear of it and be displeased ; for he might think it undutiful in me. Will you, now, promise me this V continued Lady Emily, winningly, but veiy earnestly. " I will — we both will," replied Mr. Hylton ; " and you have in part anticipated something of what I intended to ask you. Lady Emily.'' " What is that V she inquired, anxiously. " After what you have said, it seems hardly necessary ; but I was about to have entreated you on no account to men- tion any of these poor beings to your harassed father, the earl.". " Oh mercy ! mention them to him 1" exclaimed Lady Emily, with a great start, " oh no ! not for the whole world ! The very thought makes me tremble. Not that he might — ^but — consider!" She paused, and looked anxiously at Mr. and Mrs. Hylton, who assured her that they perfectly understood her meaning, and profoundly sympathized with the afilicted earl. With this she rose to depart; and, kissing Mrs. Hylton, promised to call the next day with the fifteen guineas. Mr. Hylton then led her to the carriage, in which sat one of her maids, wondering at her ladyship's prolonged stay at the par- sonage. And as the can-iage drove rapidly away, " There goes an angel in human fovm !" said Mr. and Mrs. Hylton to each other. NOWANDTHEN. ^ 61 Ah ! what a contrast did the youthful Lady Emily present Defore the eye of Mr. Hylton, to her inaccessible and implaca- ble parent! for such, alas! he but too plainly appeared to Mr. Hylton, on the very first occasion on which the earl and he had said any thing to each other at all bearing on the recent calamity. Three times had the earl's carriage appeared before the parsonage, since the funeral, to convey Mi*. Hylton, on a friendly invitation, to the castle, to dine with its taciturn and gloomy lord and Lady Emily ; and when she had withdrawn to Lady Alkifiond's chamber, Mr. Hylton felt oppressed by ► vdtnessing in his companion a misery incapable of relief. He was a man of superior intellect, thoroughly well educated, acquainted with the world, and possessing a penetrating knowl- edge of human nature. He had long before thoroughly mas tered the earl's idiosyncrasy, and perceived and lamented his utterly insufficient notions of religion. A thousand times had he striven with all the delicacy and tact of which he was mas- ter, to turn the earl's attention inward upon himself, but in vain, feeling himself ever courteously, though sometimes some- what sternly, repulsed. Some fortnight after Lady Emily's visit to the parsonage, Mr. Hylton made bis appearance at the castle on one of those cheerless occasions which have just been spoken of; and on Lady Emily's departure, as usual, after dinner, the earl pro- duced a sheet of paper, containing a Latin inscription, which he had been framing during the day, for a tablet which he meditated erecting in memory of his son. The language was quite unexceptionable ;• the earl being noted for hi§ elegant scholarship. Mr. Hylton read it very attentively twice or thrice, and then laid it down before the earl. " Has it your approbation, Mr. Hylton V said the earl. " The Latinity,. my lord, is, as I expected, faultless," replied Mr. Hylton, with a certain significance of manner which arrest ed the attention of his noble companion, who remained silent foi a few moments, while he cast his eye over the paper. " I presume the matter, Mr. Hylton, is as unobjectionable as the manner? — I composed it in a sad spirit, I assure you." Mr. Hyl- ton remained silent, apparently absorbed in thought. " Pray, tell me frankly, Mr. Hylton," said the earl, with slight displeas- ure in his tone, " are you now thinking painfully about what vou have just read V "My lord," rephed Mr. Hylton, solemnlv, "I have been 62 NOW AND THEN. thinking how this inscription would appear before the eyes of Him whose minister and servant I am !"' "Indeed, sir," said the earl, haughtily'; " would it not bear the scrutiny ]" " I fear not, my lord, if I have read the New Testament right- ly. But pardon me, my lord; if you will favor me for a day with that paper, I will give your lordship my written senti- m,ents on the subject, I need hardly say, with all respect and faithfulness," " I will consider of it, sir," said the earl, gloomily, endeavor- ing to repress a sigh, as he returned the paper to his pocket- ' book. " There is no living being, my lord, I verily believe," said Mr. Hylton, earnestly, " who wishes better to your lordship than do 1, and few who think of your lordship more frequently and anxiously. Even should your lordship not feel disposed to honor me with that paper, may I ask permission to send your lordship my written impressions concerning it — chiefly upon one expression V " I think, sir, I know what you allude to," said the earl, with a lowering brow and a stately courtesy of manner ; " I have considered the subject, and deem the expression unobjectiona- ble : if I consider it necessary to consult you upon the matter again, I will receive your opinion in writing." "My dear lord, forgive me if, when appealed to, a solemn sense of duty forces me — " "I thank you, Mr. Hylton, but we need at present discuss this matter no further," said the earl, coldly. " Be it so, my lord," replied Mr. Hylton, sadly ; and after a brief interval of chilling silence they separated; the earl with feelings of suppressed indignation and gloomy excitement, Mr. Hylton vnth concern and apprehension. Had he been a mere man of the world, he would have felt the supercilious demeanor and treatment of the earl to be in- supportable ; but he knew himself to be invested with a holier character, to be engaged on a mission, of which as yet scarcely any thing had been accomplished. With what different feelings he quitted the little cottage of old Ayliffe, where he was a very frequent visitor ; on every occa- sion conceiving a more and more exalted opinion of him, stand ing alone in his misery, unbefriended but by Heaven. He was kept fi'om the workhouse, a destination of which he had all a N O W A N D .T H E N. 63 ti-ue Englishman's horror, solely by the kindness of a few neigh- boring farmers, and Mr. Hylton ; all of whom contrived to find him some sort of employment for a portion of each day, such as supplied his slight wants, and left him time for frequent in- quines after each of the scattered members of his family — his infant grandson, his dying daughter-in-law, his death-doomed son. On one or other of^hese sad errands he was to be seen almost every day, in all weathers, an object of universal respect and sympathy. Little, however, spoke he to any one but Mr. Hylton, for his Heart was sorely oppressed with fear on account of the peril of his son, suddenly charged as that son was with so tremendous a crime, and looked on with horror by the whole kingdom, as too truly was reported to the old man : a son who had passed all his life, till that moment, in peace and virtue. "Late at night might a curious passer-by have observed a faint light within old Ayliffe's solitary cottage, and on looking closely, seen him at one time poring over his old Bible, at another on his knees. And early in the cheerless mornings, and later in the more cheerless evenings than others were found stirring, might he have been seen standing silently in the church-yard beside the grave of his wife, with solemn thoughts and unutterable. " Here," said he, " the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest I and in God's good time I may lay my bones beside thee, and we may molder away together till the day when we rise again, and see the meaning of every thing that hath befallen us here !" In the mean time thicker and thicker darkness gathered around young Ayliffe as the dreaded assize-time drew near. The active kindness of Mr. Hylton, and of a few of the chief Inhabitants of the village, had provided him with professional as- sistance in preparing for his defense ; but as time wore on, it somehow or other got abroad that the prisoner's skillful- and experienced attorney looked not cheerful about the business, though he knew his duty better than to say any thing of a de- sponding character to any one but the prisoner. Him -he told, and sickened in telling, that though he, the attorney, verily be- lived him to be innocent, he saw not, then at least, how the judge and jury were to be brought to look at the'affair in the same light, without witnesses to guide them. Many and anxious were the interviews between Mr. Hylton and old Ayliffe on the dismal subject of the approaching trial j and more- and more frequent they became as the time drew t)4 NOW AND THEN. nearer. The miserable old man was wasted, so to speak, to shadow, and but for the patient indulgence of his agonized in- quiries by Mr. Hyllon, his overstrained and overburdened mind might have given way. Little, however, could Mr. Hylton conscientiously say to sustain hopes of a favorable issue ; dwell- ing, on the conti-ary, strongly upon the dreadful directness of the evidence which it was understood was ready to-be brought forward. The old man gave implicit credit to his son's un- wavering protestations not only of innocence, but total igno- rance who the murderers were, or why the murder had been committed. " Why went he that night to the wood ? Why were hia clothes stained with blood] Why ran he from the wood as for his life ]" said Mr. Hylton : " these, as I have often told jrou, my poor friend, are questions which it is very terrible to near asked, and not satisfactorily answered." " Sir, I do assure you," replied Ayliffe, " that he can show why he did all these things, and yet is innocent." "Can he] Can he] How ]" inquired Mr. Hylton. "What witnesses has he ]' His companion pressed his hand against his forehead. " Lord, have mercy on him, poor soul I" said he; "I misgive me that he hath not any ; but he may surely say as much when he is on trial, and God may put it in the hearts of those he pleads before to believe him ; for I will swear for him that never an untrue word did he ever, that I know of, speak in his life : and as for cruelty^ — why the heart of a woman hath he, for all his strength and spirit ! Oh, sir, why should poor Adam do this bloody wickedness ] What hate had he against the young lord ]" " Adam," said Mr. Hylton, looking steadfastly at Ayliffe,, " that is like to be an awful question, from what 1 have heard. 'Tis whispered that they can show malice on your son's part toward Lord Alkmond ; that he hath been heard to speak in that way — " While Mr. Hylton spoke, a sickening change came over the features of the old man, and he almost groaned aloud. "What! do you fear," said Mr. Hylton, kindly, "that any will swear falsely against him ]" Ayliffe remained silent, and looked the picture of despair; for while Mr. Hylton was dwelling in his own mind on the ex- pressions which it woujd be found that young Ayliffe had let N O W A N D T H E N. - 05 fall when, he was convicted for unlawfully having possession of the hare, but which Mr. Hylton did not communicate to old Ayliffe, the latter suddenly recollected, for the first time since his son's arrest, his sullen refusal, when requested by his father, to stay and salute the young lord, as he passed the cottage on coming down from London, and the strong expressions of his son which accompanied that refusal. And wdth those expres- sions were quickly associated certain others, which also old Ayliffe had till then forgotten, and which, thus combined and coupled with the suggestion thrown out by Mr. Hylton, suddenly ac- quired a significance that was appalling. The old man stag- gered under the shock ; and the doubts and fears which had vanished before his son's solemn asseveration of his innocence, when first his father saw him there, suddenly returned with tenfold force. Mr. !Bfylton saw that his misery had reached its climax ; for his lonq^ and fondly-cherished confidence in his- son's truth and in- nocence appeared suddenly shattei'ed.' He spoke with infinite ' kindness to him, and forced him to take a little refreshment. When he was somewhat revived, " Tell me, Adam," said Mr. Hylton, " if yoiBfchoose, what is the explanation which your son is going to give of the circum- stances in which he was found ; you may do so with perfect safety, for, on consideration, I can see no impropriety in my hear- ing what his defense is likely to be." On this Aylifie told Mr. Hylton what his son's statement was, and Mr. Hylton listened to it with deep attention. " That's the whole matter, su-," said Aylifie, as he concluded ; adding, eagerly, '.' and don't you believe it, sir 1 You wouldj if you knew my son as well as I do, sir !" f Let me consider a little, Adam, let me consider," said Mr. Hylton, very seriously. Old Ayliffp gazed at him with intense anxiety for some minutes, during which Mr. Hylton was evidently deep in thought. " Of course all this has been told to your attorney 1" at length he inquired. "Evei-y word on't, sir, every word!" answered Ayliffe, eagerly. " And vyhat says he of it 1" " Why, sir, I can not rightly make out ; only that it is a se- rious business, and a counselor will decide on it, and it will t>6 NOWANDTHEN. clear my son, if it be believed ; but, sir, I would rather know what you think on't?" Mr. Hylton shook his head. " Why, Adam, the account he gives is strange, very strange ; it may be quite true, but much discretion, methinks, will bo required on the part of your son's counselors. I am glad, my friend, that your son has so shrewd and experienced an attor- ney as has been engaged for him ; and, for the rest, may God detect the guilty, and vindicate the innocent." - "Amen, sir," said the old man; and, Mr. Hylton having bade him adieu with great cordiality, he betook himself home- ward, but with such direful misgivings as kept him awake the whole night ; and Mr. Hylton himself spent some hours in re- volving what he had heard, but without being able to come to any satisfactory conclusion. His first impression, however, when he woke in the morning was, that poor young^Ayliffo's doom was sealed. • A few evenings before the commencement of the assizes, Mr. Hylton was at the castle, whither he had been summoned to read the solemn service for the visitation of the sick, in the chamber of Lady Alkmond. The earl and Lady Emily were present, as had been the case on several previous occasions ; and, on that now referred to, the earl, who had been during the day grievously depi'essed by the precarious condition of Lady Alkmond, requested Mr. Hylton, on quitting the cham- ber, to accompany him for a few moments to the library. On being seated, " Mr. Hylton," said his lordship, whose manner was so subdued as to give infinite satisfaction to the pious mind of Mr. Hylton, "it has been this morning intimated to me that you are about to give evidence at the approaching trial in favor of the prisoner" — pausing as he uttered the word — " as far as his previous character is concerned." "I am, my lord," replied Mr. Hylton, with epergy; "most warm and willing testimony — most decisive testimony : would to God, my lord, I could speak in the like terms and with the same justice of many others of my parishioners, as I shall speak on the dark day that draws near on behalf of these Ayliffes, old and young ; a more exemplary little family never knew I nor heard of; and I consider the old man, my lord, to be a very fine character. He trained up his child as a Christ- ian, and sho^^ed him the life of one. It is he, old Adam Ay- liffe— " N O W A N D T H E W. 67 " I wish merely to assure you, Mr. Hylton," replied the ear], with much of his usual haughtiness of manner, " that I can have no objection to your giving favorable testimony on behalf of the prisoner, as far as you conscientiously can do such a thing." " Forgive me, my dear lord," said Mr. Hyltonj w;ith dignity, " if I feel impelled to say that I need to ask no consent or per- mission from any one living to do that which is a duty incum- bent upon me." > This was said with a calm firmness very perceptible to the earl, who appeared for some moments as if about to say some- thing in reply ; but, rather abruptly, and with a very gloomy courtesy, he wished Mr. Hylton good-evening, and they parted^ As the latter was passing, in deep meditation, through a long and dusty corridor which led to that part of the castle by which he usually quitted, he thought he heard the faint sound of steps hastening toward him, and the rustling of a lady's dress. Nor was he mistaken : for Lady Emily, with her finger on her lips, and a furtive glance roimd, hastily approached him, and whispered hurriedly, but softly, "How is that poor woman at the infirmary'?" " She remains barely alive, dear Lady Emily." " Is she resigned, poor creature ?" " I think so ; but she is often miserable, and her mind, lai terly, wanders much." " Could she be better cared for if she were removed to a private house V . " Certainly not, my dear Lady Emily ; she can not possibly have better nursing and medical attendance than she has now I have myself given special instructions on the subject." " And" — her voice faltered — " that wretched little being, her poor child, is it — " At that moment were heard distant footsteps,^ which both Lady Emily and Mr. Hylton recognized as those of the earl; and Lady Emily vanished as though she had been a spirit 68 NOWANDTHEN. CHAPTER III. At length arrived the day of the great murder trial, which the judges of assize had fixed for Friday — a day always, in those times, when practicable, named for capital cases, with the humane view of giving, in the event of conviction, as long an interval as possible for carrying into effect the dreadful sentence of the law. There were two other capital cases fixed for the same day, but of no public interest ; being only those of a farmer's man, for stealing a pair of shoes from a booth in a fair, and another for taking a cheese in the night- time, out of a dairy ; both the offenders being found with the stolen property upon them. These were simple cases, and could be quickly disposed of. But the great murder trial seemed so have attracted nearly half the county into the assize- town, besides many persons of quality fiom very distant parts of the country. The case was to be tried before the lord chief justice, who was a very humane man, and a great lawyer ; and the solicitor- general had come down on the part of the crown, to conduct a case of such public interest and importance. The town was astir from four o'clock in the morning, since which time a great number of country folk, who had walked five, ten, and even fifteen miles, had been standing outside the jail till the doors were open. There were upward of a thousand people col- lected round those doors, more than by any means could be .got into the gallery ; and as for the body of the court, and the bench, all that part had been allotted to persons of distinction, long before, by favor of the sheriff. At a few minutes before nine o'clock, the judge was to be seen, sitting in his scarlet and ermine robes, in the sheriff's coach, preceded by a troop of javelin-men and trumpeters; and so excited was the crowd through which they slowly passed, that many of them thought there was something very startling and dismal in the sounds of the trumpets on that morning. N O W A N D T H E N. 69 The judge took his seat while the clock was striking nine. On sitting down he seemed for a moment to be adjusting his robes ; but he also was secretly disposing Ms black cap, so as to have it in readiness against a sad event which, having read what had been deposed to before the coroner's jury, and the magistrates who had committed the prisoner, his lordship fore- saw was but too likely to happen. This done, ho leaned back for a moment, and while the stir raised by his entrance was subsiding, he looked around him with great composure, not at all surprised at the prodigious number of people who were present. On the bench near him were noblemen and gentle- men of high rank (but no ladies, as now-a-days happens), whom he knew well, but then took no notice of whatever. The seats round and beneath him were densely crowded by counsel : among whom, facing the jury-box, was Mr. Solicitor- General, who had a grave, careworn face; and a little to his. right was the counselor engaged on behalf of the prisoner, but only to cross-examine the witnesses, or (if he could) detect an objection to the proceedings in point of law : not being per- mitted to say one word for his client to the jury. Next to him sat his attorney ; and both of them looked very anxious. Be- side the attorney who conducted the case for the crown sat the earl's solicitor and Mr. Oxley. In the magistrates' box sat Mr. Hylton, looking pale and har- assed. Just before taking his seat, he had quitted poor old Ayliffe; whom, with infinite effort, he had at length prevailed apon to remain out of court, in a room close by, with every comfort provided for him by the high sheriff. From the mo- ment that Mr. Hylton sat down, he seemed buried in his own thoughts ; his head leaning on his hands, which quite covered his agitated face. " Put the prisoner to the bar," said the officer of the court to the jailer; and there was instantly a solemn silence, broken presently by the clanking sound of irons : and amid beating hearts, hurried breathing, and eyes intently fixed on the dock,, there slowly approached it, accompanied by two jailers, and walking not without difficulty in his heavy irons, a tall, marvel- OHsly wellTproportioned man, apparently about thirty years old, with a countenance that, especially irradiated just then by a transient gleam of sunshine, said instantly to all present — that t could never be that of a murderer. AH were struck by it, Twas a frank, manly face, of a dauntless English cast, yet 70 NOW AND THEN. looked somewhat emaciated from illness and confinement. But for this, there was not among the gentle and simple who beheld him a finer specimen of the Saxon countenance, in- cluding even the color and disposition of his hair, somewhat disordered though it seemed. He stood straight up at the bar, with an air of manly and somewhat indignant confidence ; having bowed respectfully to the judge, who was watching him with searching scrutiny. AylifTe's pale face 'had reddened a little, as he first encoun- tered so exciting a scene, on an occasion to him so unspeaka- . bly awful and momentous. His light-blue eyes spoke eloquent- ly in his favor, being full of intelligence and spirit, and indica- tive of goodness ; but there was much of suffering in them. As the judge gazed at him, this favorable impression was deepen- ing, but was effaced in a moment, by habitual caution and a recollection of what he had read concerning the case in the depositions. "Adam AylifTe,'' said the clerk of the peace, "hold up thy hand." The prisoner obeyed ; holding up his right hand, which was observed to quiver a little. " Thou standest indicted by the name of Adam Ayliffe, late of the Parish of Milverstoke, in this County, laborer, for that thou, not having the fear of Grod before thine eyes, but being moved and seduced by the instigation of the devil, on the thirty- first day of December last, in the Parish of Milverstoke, in this County, in and upon one Fitz-Stephen Geoffry Lionel Bevylle; Esquire, commonly called Viscount Alkmond, in the peace of God and of our Lord the King then and there being, felonious- ly, willfully, and of thy malice aforethought, didst make an as- sault, and then and there with a certain bludgeon, in thy right hand then and there held, in and upon the head of him, then and there feloniously, willfully, and with malice aforethought, with the bludgeon aforesaid, didst give him a mortal wound, whereof he then and there instantly died. How sayest thou, Adam Ayliffe, art thou guilty of the murder and felony vnth which thou standest indicted, or not guilty V " Not guilty ! Not guilty !" said the prisoner quickly, and with great energy, and his chest heaved. " How wilt thou be tried V " By God and my country," replied the prisoner, prompted by two of the turnkeys near him. NOWANDTHEN. 71 " G-od send tbee a good delivei'ance!" quoth the officer. "Let the prisoner's irons be removed," said the judge, after having spoken privately to the sheriff, who told him of the prisoner's recent severe illness ; that no rescue had ever been attempted, and that no violence was to be apprehended. On this the irons were knocked off, during which process the officer of the court thus addressed him : " Prisoner at the bar ; those good men whose names thou wilt now hear called over, are the jury, who are to pass between our Sovereign Lord the King and thee upon thy trial. If, therefore, thou wouldst challenge them, or any of them, thou must do so when each one comes to the book to be sworn, and before he is sworn, and thou shalt be heard." The prisoner listened to this brief but significant address so intently as to be apparently unaware of the act by which he was being liberated from his irons. Every juryman was then thus publicly and separately sworn : " Thou shalt well and truly try, and true deliverance make between our Sovereign Lord the King, and the prisoner at the bar, whom thou shalt have in charge ; and a true verdict give, according to the evidence. So help thee God !" When the twelve had been counted aloud, one by one, and their names called over, the crier thus made proclamation : " If any one can inform my Lords the King's Justices, the King's Sergeant, or Attorney-General, on this inquest to be now taken between our Sovereign Lord the King, and the prisoner at the bar, of any treason, murders, felonies, or misde- meanors done or committed by the prisoner at the bar, let him come forth, ajid he shall be heard ; for the prisoner now stands upon his deliverance : and let all persons bound, by their recog- nizance, to prosecute or give evidence against the prisoner at the bar, come forth and give their evidence, or they will forfeit their recognizances." " After a moment's pause, the officer of the court said to the prisoner, " Adam AyliJITe, hold up thy hand." When this had been done, the officer thus addressed the jury: "Gentleman of the jury, look upon the piisoner, arid heark- en to his charge." Then he read the substance of the indictment, and pro- ceeded — "Upon this indictment the prisoner hath been arraigned 51 72 N O W A N D T H E N. upon his avraignment he hath pleaded Not guilty. Your charge, therefore, is to inquire whether he be guilty or not guilty, and to hearken to the evidence." The Solicitor-general was rising to state the case to the jury, when he turned to the judge, and whispered; on which, " Prisoner," said the judge, with a kind and dignified air, " I hear that you have been ill, and may be unable, with comfort, to stand ; you may, therefore, be seated, if you choose." " I would rather stand, my lord, till I can not, with thanks to your lordship," replied AylifTe. And the next moment Mr. Solicitor-general had commenced his speech to the jury; speaking with a directness and cogency that were utterly sickening to all who felt any interest in him whose life depended on the proof, or disproof, of what was stated in that speech. Mr. Solicitor made, indeed, a very plain ■ case of it. " That a foul and bloody murder (it significfl naught that it had been done upon a young nobleman, more than upon any other person, high or low, man, woman, or child) had been committed, was beyond all doubt whatever; and the only question that day to be tried was, whether the prisoner had ■lone that murder. He is found," continued Mr. Solicitor, ' within a few yards of the place where lay the newly-murder- id body; his clothes have a great stain of blood on them; he nas a club with him, which, marked with blood, is found in his nouse ; he flies, as for his life, from the spot where the body ay, and, being hotly pursued, he reaches home with this blood on him, and this stick with him ; and while panting and af- frighted, is arrested. This, of itself, surely is the very case put by my Lord Coke, as that of a most violent presumption of guilt , and his words are these : ' It is if one be run through the body with a sword in a house, whereof he instantly dieth, and a man is seen to come out of that house with a bloody sword, and no other man was at that time in the house.' If the prison- er answers not, nor explain away what will be proved against him, nor show how he came to be in my Lord Milverstoke's wood that evening, at that very time, and to be running away bloody, and with a bloody weapon capable of doing the deed, and yet quite unconcerned in, and ignorant of, this most bar- barous and horrid murder — why, gentlemen, what shall be said^ Whatever must in such a case be said, it is for you alone to say. But the crown will, as I am instructed, carry this matter much N O W A N D T H E N. 73 farther than even all this ; and will show an evil will and malice aforethought of the man at the bar, toward my Loid Milver- stoke and his late son, the murdered person — arising, I am told, out of some angry feeling at the desire of my Lord Milverstoke to become the purchaser of some cottage property of his fath- er's, but more especially because of a poaching affair, which had occurred only some week or so previously to the murder; and on that occasion the prisoner was convicted of poaching on my Lord Milverstoke's land — " here the prisoner made some eager gesture of dissent, hut was anxiously motioned to silence by his advisers — " and then let fall some expressions which I shall leave to a witness to tell you; and which will, I fear, be thought by you to have a serious bearing on this case. These, gentlemen, are the facts which, I am told, we shall prove most clearly before you ; so that, you see, however dreadful the con- sequences of this crime, and exalted the position in society of the victim and his bereaved relative — with whom there is, as there surely ought to be, a universal sympathy — the case is short and simple on the part of the crown, who have no wish (God forbid that they should have) to press on the prisoner. He may not make his defense before you by counsel : such is the law of the land, be it good, be it bad : but this I know, it secures the prisoner a counsel in the judge that ti'ies him, and who will take all fitting care of his interests, as well as those of the public." With this, Mr. Solicitor-general sat down ; and the case was not long in being proved, much as the reader has it al ready. The head keeper and two under-keepers were called as wit- nesses ; and ■ explained that, as they were going their custom- ary rounds, they heard, some twent.y or thirty yards off from a particular spot where they were, a dull, heavy sound, followed by a fall ; then something like a faint groan or sigh, and foot- steps. "Hallo!" cried the head keeper, "what is that?' Then all three pushed on, spreading a few yards from each other ; when, just as they had got into a pathway, one of them stum- bled over the body of Lord Alkmond, and cried "Murder !" while the two others, hearing running footsteps, followed in their di- rection till they caught sight of the prisoner, fired after him ineffectually, and finally succeeded in arresting him as has been described. His lordship was in dinner, or evening dress, but had put on a dark great-coat before quitting the castle, D 74 NOWANDTHKN. and nothing about his person had been taken away or dis- turbed. The doctor who had been called in described the blow which Lord Alkmond had been struck to have been most tre- mendous, and death to have followed almost instantly; that it .lad been given by some heavy, blunt instrument from behind ; :ind then was produced the stick which was proved to have !)oen taken from the prisoner's house, a day or two after the murder, and which still bore blood-stains on it. (At all this the prisoner was much agitated, using vehement gestures, which were with difficulty restrained by his advisers beneath.) The doctor said that such an instrument was quite sufficient to occasion the blow which Lord Alkmond had received, and from which he had died. " It is not true ! it can not be ! it is not so !" exclaimed the prisoner, with agitation ; but he was temperately checked by the judge. Then were produced by the constable the clothes which the prisoner had worn when arrested. The left sleeve of the coat must, on that night, have been almost soaked in blood; and other parts of his dress had also marks of blood on them. The [jrisoner turned ghastly white as these dumb witnesses were arrayed before him and the jury ; there was agony in his averted eye ; and he shuddered — so, indeed, did most of those in court : and his agitation at that moment did him mischief- perhaps irreparable — in the minds of the jury. Then was called Mr. Oxley ; and the prisoner changed color on hearing the name. This proved to be, indeed, a terrible witness ; for, speaking in a mild and somewhat prepossessing way,~and with a show of reluctance, he yet mentioned ex- pressions used by the prisoner, which, in the judgment of every body present, established great ill-wdll toward the noble owner of Milverstoke. He said that he feared the beginning of the son's grudge was the earl's having bought, on several occa- sions, parts of a little property owned by the prisoner's father, and showing a desire through the witness to purchase the re- mainder, but at a price infinitely beyond its value. That on one occasion the prisoner had said to the witness, in a sullen way, " Those that live in the cottage may outlive those that live in the castle !" The prisoner, on hearing this, gave a prodigious start. N O W A N D T H E N. 75 T.. ' ' —— __ _ " Was any one present when this was said ]" interposed the judge. " No, my lord ; we were alone," said the witness. " Never said I such words — no, nor any like them — ^nor ever thought them," said the prisoner, vehemently. Mr. Oxley looked sadly toward the jury, and shook his head. Then he spoke of the conviction for poaching, of which, as then concerned the prisoner, the witness made a far blacker busi- ness than the othen He said that the prisoner, observing Mr. Oxley to be present, and knowing the hare to have come fi-om Lord Milverstoke's land, muttered, thinking himself unheard by any, and no one did hear him but the witness, " T/tei/ shall rue it that own that hare." With this answer sat down, very gi-avely, the counsel for the crown ; but the prisoner became deadly pale, and said aloud, in a kind of agony, to the counselor beneath him, " I said not so ! I never had a thought to say so ! O ! that my life should thus be sworn away !" On this his attorney got up, and whispered to him earnest- ly ; so did he to the attorney ; and the last to the counselor, who thereupon rose, and was going to ask the witness a ques- tion, when a piece of paper was handed to him fi-om the magistrate's box, written by Mr. Hylton iii some agitation ; it was this : " Ask Mr. Oxley whether the words did not apply to anoth- er, who had got him into trouble by giving him the hare ; and whether the words were not, ' he shall rue it that brougJit me here V Tell him that this is written by one who was there that day." This question was closely pressed on Mr. Oxley ; but he said, with great firmness, " No ; the words were as I have sworn to them, and closely noted at the time, not liking the prisoner's looks. I thought of them often afterward, before this murder was committed ; but never dreamed of any thing so bloody as this coming of it, or would have had him bound in sureties of the peace, I war- rant you." " And will you say this, when those are present who were then there ]" " Yes, I will ; whether they heard it or not, I can not tell ; out I did. If they heard difierently, let them say so." Mr. Oxley happened to know that Sir Henry Hanington 76 NOWANDTHEN. the magistrate who had convicted poor Ayliffe, was ill at home of the gout. " Did the magistrate's clerk hear it V inquired the counsel for the piisoner, after much hesitation. " I can not say : being busy, he might, or might not. I have not spoken to him on the matter." Several other questions the counsel was disposed to have put, but refrained ; perceiving, and having, indeed, been assured what sort of person the witness was, and how disposed toward the prisoner; so he sat down, and Mr. Solicitor-general asked no questions. "But," said the judge, in a calm and scrutinizing way, "Mr. Oxley, you will be pleased to repeat the very self-same words which you allege the prisoner to have used on each of the two occasions you have spoken of." Mr. Oxley immediately did so, with the variation of only an Anmaterial word or two. " Do you positively swear, sir, that his words before the magistrate were not, ' He shall rue it, that brought me here V " " I do, my lord. His words were, ' they that own that hare."' " Is not the sound of the one very like that of the other 1" " Not, my lord, as the prisoner pronounced it." " Of course the man was present who had informed against him ?" " Yes, my lord ; he got half the penalty." " Did any thing pass between him and the prisoner V " Not that I saw or heard, my lord." " Are they neighbors V " They live at some six miles' distance from each other." " What was the man's name V " Jonas Hundle." " Who, or what is he ?" " For aught I know, my lord, a decent farming-man." " Do you know how he came by the hare that he gave or sold to the prisoner V ".No, my lord." " Is Jonas Hundle sti'll in that part of the country V " Yes, my lord ; I saw him last week, hedging and ditching." " How came you to be then at the magistrate's, sir V " I chanced to be there on other business with the justice's clerk, and, through one- present, offered the prisoner tT pay the N O W A N D Til E N. 7^ fine for him, if he and his father would agree with the Earl of Milverstoke about selling their cottage." " Did he accept the offer 1" " No, my lord ; but used some horrid words concerning the earl, which I recollect not exactly." " Have you and the prisoner ever had any disputes 1" " No, my lord ; except that he has sometimes made me angry by what he had said concerning the earl and his family : other- wise we have never fallen out." ' " What sort of a character bears he 1" Mr. Oxley considered for a moment ; and then said, in a ve''y candid manner — " I knew never of any thing to his disparagement before this matter and that of the hare were laid to his charge." After a considerable pause, during which the judge was ev- idently engaged in deep thought — " Pray, Mr. Oxley," said he, " do you happen to know how Lord Alkmond came to be in the woods at so late an hour, and alone V " No, my lord ; only I have heard — " " That you can not tell us, sir." " But I know, my lord, that when at Milverstoke, some time Defore, his lordship would take such walks, and go alone." His lordship made a few notes, very deliberately; and then, laying down his pen, leaned back, and looked gloomily thought- ful. " Call back Mr. Oxley," said he, just as Mr. Solicitor- general was rising to say something. " Which was the taller and larger man. Lord Alkmond or Jonas Hundle ]" "Oh, my lord, his lordship was very tall and slight; and Jo- nas Hundle is stout and short." " Call back the keeper," said the judge ; and on that witness reappearing — " Have you ever seen Hundle in the woods at Milverstoke 1" " I can not recollect, my lord ; I know but little of him." " Now attend particularly to the question which I am about to ask you. Are you quite certain that when you heard the two sounds you have spoken of, just before you came up to the body of Lord Alkmond, you heard no footsteps — ^I mean, no Bound of footsteps in any direction, before you had come up with his lordship's body ]" " None, my lord." " None after you had discovered the body V 78 N O W A N D T H E N. " Only those of the prisoner, my lord, whom my men billowed." " There were no sounds as of running in any other direc- tion ?" " No, my lord — none." "Were you not so greatly disturbed at seeing Lord Alk- mond's body that you might have heard, but without noticing, footsteps in another direction V " My lord, I am assured that I did not ; I have often since thought of it." The other two keepers were recalled by the judge, and asked similar questions, to which they gave similar answers : and then Mr. Solicitor declared that the case for the crovra was closed. The judge thereupon glanced ominously at the prisoner's counsel and attorney, who were instantly in anxious consul- tation, amid the breathless silence of the court — being, up even to that critical moment, in direful perplexity whether or not to hand in to the officer of the court the account which the attor- ney had dravni up in wiiting from the prisoner's lips, of the affair, as he protested, without ever varying, that it had hap- pened. Just as they had determined in the negative, but with a dread- ful sense of responsibility, behold ! their prisoner, as if unable to resist a sudden impulse, turned to the jury, and spoke in sub- stance thus, with a voice at first somewhat smothered, but pres- ently becoming clear : " Gentlemen — With my lord's permission to speak, I have done wrong, and meant to do wrong, but no murder ; and I do not wonder why I am now here, for truly appearances be against me teiribly. Yet of this murder which has been done, am I every whit as innocent as any of you, or his lordship there ; nor know I who did it, nor why. But I was in the wood at the time when that most cruel deed was done, and was (may God forgive me !) lying in wait to punish one who had hurt and deceived me greatly ; and that was the man whom I took yonder stick to cudgel soundly, and teach him thereby how to lay a cruel snare for one whose wife (as I told him mine was) lay nearly at death's door for lack of nourishment. He spoke kindly to me, aa we were hedging, and so afterward did the man beside us, that came as witness against me before the magistrate ; those fwo being doubtless to have between them what I might have to pay. I can not but say I knew I had gone against the law therein, and naught like it had ever I done NOW AND THEN. before, though many a time I might. And truly, had I on that terrible night caught them, or either of them — as I had heard they might chance to be there — Grod knoweth how much greater mischief I might have done than I intended. But to say I killed Lord Alkmond is quite contraiy to God's truth. I, hearing footsteps at some distance, and thinking only of Hundle, crept onward ; and some time after, they getting fainter, I went on faster, and" — a visible tremor came over him — " right across a path lay a body, and Ithought the arm moved a little. The fright I then felt, none of you may ever know — God grant yf)u may not ! I saw who it was— the; poor young lord, wrapp'>d in a great-coat. I tried to, lift him: and just then heard step? coming another way. ' Ho,' quoth I, ' they will say that thi.q I did — having come out after hares again,' as I misgave me it would be said ; and though at first I was minded to shout foi help, I feared, for appearance's sake ; and knowing that I die" it not, and hearing steps coming nearer, and then voices speak ing, as hath been told you to-day, I ran quicker, and was fol lowed, and fi^-ed at, as though I had been a wild beast : anc' here am I this day to answer before you for a murder I nevei committed, nor dreamed of. Never passed word good or woi'd ill between the poor young lord and me, in our lives ; nor, as God doth know, had I malice against him. Now, gentlemen, 1 hope you believe all this ; and may God put it into your hearts to do so, for it is nothing but the truth ; and there is one, I think, could say" — he paused, his eyes filled with tears, and he seemed choked. After a while he resumed — " I mean, my old father ; were he here — tnily glad am I that he is not — that he hath never known falsehood come fi^om my lips — and this is all that I can plead for my poor life, now in danger." Here his counsel got up, and whispered hastily to him. " Ay, ay, my lord, that Mr. Oxley hath put a wrong color on my words, and much I fear he hath done it knowingly, for he doth not love me nor mine. The words that I said, when I was before the justice for the hare, were not what hath here been said by Mr. Oxley ; but I will own I did say then to my- self, as I had thought, that it should go hard with them that had brought me where I was, by the cruel means of trapping me with that hare ; and those other words I never said at all, nor any like them, that I can remember, at any time." At this moment the prisoner suddenly fell heavily on the floor, overcome with exhaustion both of mind and body (which 80 NOWANDTHEN. was much weakened by illness), rendering him for a short time insensible. This greatly startled and moved all present. After a while, he was assisted from court, and given wine and water ; and on a message from the judge being sent to know if he were able and ready to come back, he returned, looking very ill, leaning between two jailers, and sat down on the bench which had been placed for him in the dock, by order of the judge. Then were called witnesses to speak to his good character beginning with Mr. Hylton, whose words, and hearty emphatic manner of uttering them, and his high character, evidently produ- ced a great impression in the prisoner's favor. For no mortal man could more have been said than he said, as clergyman and mag- istrate, for AylifFe, who sobbed violently while Mr. Hylton spoke Then the chief justice turned toward the jury, and all they with anxious faces to him. In a twinkling no earthly sound was audible, but his clear, distinct voice, which thus began : " Gentlemen of the jury : There be many cases in which we are forced to sonic judgment or other, on the question oi true or false; though lamentinjj with just cause, that we have bul scanty moins for fuming such judgment. But in this world it ever must be so, ju;1ging as we must, with imperfect faculties, and concerning matters Jae knowledge whereof, as (observe you!) constantly happens in crimes, is studiously impeded and concealed by those that have done such crimes. " Seeing? then, that our judgment may be wrong, and, as in this case, may be followed by consequences that can not be rem- edied by man, and yet that we must form a judgment one way or another, or fail of doing our duty to both God and man ; ^ve must very solemnly and carefully do our uttermost, as though our own lives were at stake ; and, devoutly asking God's as- sistance in doing so, leave the result with His mercy, wisdonj, and justice. " Now, gentlemen, in this case, forget, for a very little while, ihat life depends on the judgment which you must pronounce ; but only by and by to remember it the more distinctly and re- ligiously. Did this man at the bar slay the late Lord Alkmond % is your first question ; and the only other is. Did he do it with malice aforethought ? for ]( he did, then he has done murder, and your verdict must needs be Ghdlty. He says, before you to-day, that he did not kill 'le Lord Alkmond at all. If you lerily believe that he did ncji nor was by, counseling and as MOW AND THEN. HI sisting those who did, why, there ends the matter, and he is Not Guilty. But did he ] No one but Almighty God above, and the pi^soner himself, can — as far as we seem able this day to see — absolutely know whether the prisoner did, as though you had yourselves seen him do it; for even if he had never so sol- emnly told you that he did, yet that telling would not be such absolute knowledge, but, as I may say, next door to it ; and so is it, observe you well, if facts be proved before you, which, be they few or many, point only one way, unless all sense and reason are to be disregarded and outraged. " Look, then, to what are proved, to your satisfaction, to be facts ; and also forget not that which the prisoner himself has this day voluntarily told you. That some one did this foul murder is past dispute, the wound, proved not being of such a nature that it could possibly have been inflicted by Lord Alk- mond himself. The prisoner owns himself to have been with- the body at a time closely after that when the deed must, by all accounts, have been done ; and yet says that he knows nothing whatever of it, though he ran away, and bloody, and with a bloody stick, such as, it is sworn before you, might have done it. If these be really Jacts, are they not such as point one way only, according to the expression of my Lord Coke, which was read rightly to you by Mr. Solicitor 1 There is, as you see, no suggestion this day concerning any other who might have done the deed. But the prisoner himself does ad- rait that he went whither he had no right to go ; and, in doing that, trespassed secretly by night on the land of another for & malicious and revengeful purpose, armed with that dangerous weapon which you have seen, and is now here ; which purpose was privily to lay wait for one who, he says, had wronged him ; and (he says himself) that he might, in his anger, possibly have gone further with this unlawful and felonious assault than he had intended when he began it. Now, gentlemen, is it pos- sible, according to the best of your judgment upon these facts, that the prisoner unhappily lighted suddenly upon Lord Alk- mond, and in the darkness, and the haste of his angered tem- per, mistook him for the man for whom he was lying in wait and slew him ; and hearing voices and footsteps, fled for it V The chief justice paused, and the jury were evidently un easy, gazing on him very intently. " If that were so," continued the judge, " then is the person guilty of the murder of Lord Alkmond, beyond all possible D* S2 N O W A N D T H E N. doubt; and your verdict must be guilty, founded on facts proved, and his own admissions. That, 1 tell you, is the clear law of England, which you must, on your oaths, abide by." The prisoner here made violent efforts to lise and speak, but was prevailed on by those beside him, and beneath him, to re- main silent, while this frightful possibility against him was be- ing put to the jury. The man most d;gitated at this time, next to the prisoner, was Mr. Hylton. " Your first question, gentlemen, as I have told you," proceed- ed the chief justice, " is, Did the prisoner kill Lord Alkmond ? And methinks it may not be ill for you to ask yourselves. If it were not the prisoner, who could it have been 1 Do you, in your sound discretion, verily, on your oaths, beheve that it was not the prisoner ] You may so believe, if you credit what he has said here to-day, having, look you, due regard to what is otherwise proved against him. But have you, gentlemen, in your souls, and on your consciences, so much uncertainty on the matter, that you can not bring yourselves to say the pris- oner struck the blow, or (which is the same thing in law) was present counseling or assisting those who did? Then has the crown failed to bring before you evidence suiEcient to prove the case which they undertook to prove. But beware, gentle- men (as 'tis my duty to warn you), of being led away from proved facts, by speculation and conjecture, which are mere Will-o'-the-wisps, as I may say, if far-fetched and fanciful ; and also take care not to be drawn from your duty by thoughts of the cruelty or meanness which the prisoner charges (for aught we know, truly) on him whom he owns that he went to injure And as for what has been sworn by Mr. Oxley, my Lord Mil- verstoke's local agent, and seemingly a reputable person, why, consider whether you believe that this gentleman really heard the very words which he swears he heard the prisoner use. If such words were spoken, as are told us to-day, they go some little way to show deliberate malice toward the Lord Milver- stoke and his family generally ; but Mr. Oxley may be mistak- en after all, or (which God forbid) may have had such horrid wickedness as to color, invent, or pervert, advisedly, against ne prisoner. You will also, though I trust it may be needless lO mention such a thing, think nothing whatever of the interest with which this trial may have been looked forward to outside or be listened to in this place to-day ; but think you only of your being on your solemn oaths before Almighty God, and N O W A N T II E N . 83 judging as fearlessly and justly as though the prisoner and the late Lord Alkmond had changed places — as though the prison er had been murdered, and Lord Alkmond were here to an- swer for it. " Consider the case, then, gentlemen, under the pressure and sanction of your oaths, according to proved facts, and plain probabilities, such as would guide you in important affairs of your own. Say, Did Lord Alkmond kill himself? Are you totally in the dark 1 Can you form no reasonable opinion on the matter 1 Did Lord Alkmond and the prisoner contend to- gether, so as to make the killing manslaughter ? Of this there is no pretense whatever now before you. Then did the pris- oner strike the fatal blow, whether knowing the person to be Lord Alkmond, or mistaking him for some one else whom he intended to kill or main ? In either of these two cases you must say — Chiilty. But if you think the prisoner neither struck the blow, nor counseled nor assisted those who did — knowing noth- ing, indeed (as he hath alleged), about the matter, and that what he has said before you this day is the pure truth, then say you that he is Not Chiilty. And now, gentlemen, consider the ver- dict which you shall pronounce." On this a bailiff was thus sworn publicly — " You do swear, that you will keep this jury without meat, drink, fire, or candle, in some quiet and convenient place ; that you will suffer none to speak to them, nor any of them, neither speak to them, nor any of them, yourself, without leave of the court, except to ask them whether they have agreed on their verdict. So help you God !" Slowly then arose the twelve from their seats ; and fbllovving the bailiff to their private room, passed on to it, scarcely one of them looking at the prisoner, within a few yards of whom they walked on their gloomy errand ; nor did he look at them, but seemed faint and exhausted ; which the judge observing, gave him leave to retire, till the jury should have returned with their verdict. Then Mr. Hylton withdrew for a moment to the room, the key of which he had with him, where he had lefb old Ayliffe, whom Mr. Hylton found staring toward the door, with mute teiTor, as he entered. " I bring no news yet — the case is not over yet," said Mr. Hylton quickly, but with a heavy sigh, and a face of fearful gloom. NOW AND THEN. After in vain attempting to make the old man take any nour- ishment, Mr. Hylton i^turned to court, almost tiembling at the bare thought of a sudden knock at the door announcing the return of the jury while he was absent with the prisoner's father, on whom a sudden shock might have fatal effects. On his retura to court he found the judge sitting with a very solemn countenance, having spoken to no one since the jury had retired, except to utter a stern " No" to same counsel, who, after the juiy had been absent some time, got up and asked his lordship if he would go on at once with the other two capital cases, "which would not occupy loug!" Thus lightly was -spoken, and thought of, in those times, a capital conviction for trivial and uninteresting offenses. Mr. Hylton permitted another to occupy his seat, he stand- ing near the door in a state of sickening anxiety, in order that, whatever should be the verdict, he might be able to enter with a little preparation and calmness the room where the old man was, at the door of which he had a servant stationed, to prevent any sudden noise or knocking. At length the low general whispering which had been going on in court, for upward of an hour and a half, was arrested by the sound of knocking at the jury-room door; and, while all voices were hushed, few faces were there that did not then change color, few hearts that did not throb thickly and fast. " Put the prisoner to the bar," said the officer of the court'; and, before the first juryman had returned, the unhappy pris- oner came slowly forward from beneath the prison, to the bar, and stood there with much firmness, but his face manifestly flushed. ■ Oh ! who could tell the appalling agony which he had to endure, while the twelve juryrrien's names were being slowly called over, they answering one by one, all looking either on the floor, or away from the prisoner ! ' The last name having been called over — " Adam Ayliffe," said the officer, " hold up thy hand 1" The prisoner did so, and a very awful silence ensued, while the officer proceeded to say to the jury, " Gentlemen of the Jury, have ye agreed upon your verdict? Who shall say for you ? Ye shall speak by your foreman Do ye say that the prisoner at the bar is guilty of the felony and murder with which he stands charged, or not guilty 1" " Guilty," said the foreman — and those who were watching N O W A N D T H K N. 85 the prisoner, observed the color fly rapidly from his face, like breath from a glass, leaving him of a corpselike color. But he stood firmly — his lips appeared to move, and he spoke ; no one, however, hearing him but those next to him, who said that his words were, " Now am I murdered, who never did murder any one !" " Hearken to your verdict as the court records it," said the officer (as soon as the verdict had been pronounced), writing the fatal " Guiliy" on the indictment. " Ye say that Adam Ayliffe ii guilty of the felony and murder whereof he stands indicted : that is your verdict, and so ye say all." There was a moment's thrilling silence. " Call upon him !" said the judge, in a low tone, gazing very solemnly at the prisoner, while the officer thus called on him to hear judgment. "Adam Ayliffe, hold up thy hand. Thou hast been indicted of felony and murder : thou wast thereupon arraigned, and didst plead thereto Not Guilty, and for thy trial didst put thy- self upon God and thy country, which country hath found thee Guilty. What hast thou now to say why the court should not give thee judgment upon that conviction, to die according to law ]" A momentary pause ensued — this being the time for the prisoner's counsel to take any objection in law to the sufficiency of the indictment, so as to arrest the judgment; but the pris- oner's counsel spoke not nor moved. Then the judge drew from. beneath his desk a black velvet cap, and placed it upon his head, a sigh, or sob, being audible throughout the court while he did so. . Then rose the crier, and said, in a loud voice, " O yez ! O yez ! O yez ! My Lords the King's Justices do strictly charge and command all manner of persons to' keep silence, while sentence of death is passing against the prisoner at the bar, upon pain of imprisonment !" The prisoner stood staring at the judge, with ashy cheek and glazed eye, while the following words were being uttered, the import of which was, perhaps, at that fearful moment, only im- perfectly apprehended by him to whom they were addressed, with a calmness and deliberation that were utterly appalling. "Adam Ayliffe, the word has just been spoken which has severed you from this world and fi'om life. You stand there convicted of a most foul and cruel murder upon a young noble- 86 N O W A N D T 11 E N. man, in the very heyday of happiness, prosperity, and grandeur, and, on your own showing, utterly unoffending against you. Whether there be any truth whatever in that which you have this lay said in your defense, I know not : a jury of twelve honest nen here, whose present manifest agitation shows the pain with which they have discharged a sacred duty, have rejected four story, and found that you did actually commit this awful Clime ; and this without venturing to speak, even, of recom mending you to mercy. I am bound to tell you that I agi'ee vdth their verdict, entirely ; and all intelligent persons who hear me are now probably regarding you as a justly-convicted murderer. Indeed, what enormous offenses must go unpunish- ed, if evidence so clear as that given this day in your case were held not sufficient to bring you to conviction ! An earthly tribunal has endeavored to do its duty, and is consoled, in its anxiety, by reflecting on the overpowering strength of the evi- dence which has been brought before it. Get you, unhappy, misguided man, victim of your own guilty and headlong pas- sions ! to your knees without one moment's delay, to prepare, after quitting this earthly, for your speedy appearance before a heavenly, tribunal. I will not waste your few precious, most inestimably precious, hours which yet remain to you by doing more than conjuring you to address yourself devoutly to Him who, and who alone, is able to save you from the bitter pains of eternal death. Through your blessed Redeemer, who ever liveth to make intercession for you, beseech, and implore the pardon and mercy of your offended God 1 Alas ! all that now remains for me to do, as your earthly judge, is to declare and pronounce upon you the sentence of the law : which sentence is, that you, Adam Ayliffe, be taken back to the place whence you came, and thence, on Monday now next, to the place of public execution, and there be hanged by the neck until you be dead : and that afterward your body be dissected and anat- omized. And the Lord have mercy on your soul !" " Amen !" solemnly cried the chaplain, who, on the jury's pronouncing their verdict, had silently come, in his full canon- icals, a little behind the judge's seat, and stood there only long enough to pronounce that word, and then withdrew. The wretched prisoner moved not, nor spoke, when the judge had concluded ; and, apparently mechanically, turned round and accompanied the two jailers who stood beside him, and who, putting his arms within theirs, gently led him away from NOWANDTHEN. 87 amid the sea of solemn faces around him, to the cell, which, ivithin a few short hours, he would have to quit, only to appear befoi-e a far greater assemblage, on, if possible, a more awful occasion, with what decorum and firmness he might. As soon as Mr. Hylton had heard the death-dooming word uttered by the foreman of the jury, he instantly withdrew ; and breathing a hurried inward prayer on behalf of the prisoner, and his afflicted father, very gently opened the door, and, with as much composure as he could command, sat down beside the old man, who moved not as Mr. Hylton ente'red, but remained with his face buried in his hands, which were supported by his knees. For some moments Mr. Hylton spoke not, scarce knowing how to break the blighting intelligence. "Adam, my friend, how are you?" said he, very gently taking one of the old man's hands, and grasping it within his own. Ayliffe looked slowly and fearfully in Mr. Hylton's face, and read his son's doom written in every ti-oubled feature. He tried, but in vain, to speak ; his lips moved without uttering any sound, and he sunk from his chair on his knees, his hands clasped before him, and his haggard face inclined toward the ground. " God, in whom you bave trusted, my dear troubled fi'iend, support you in this hour of darkness !" said Mr. Hylton. " Pray ! help — help me to pray ]" gasped the old man faint- ly ; on which Mr. Hylton kneeled beside him saying, " God be merciful unto thee, and bless thee, and lift up the light of his countenance upon thee ! Be Thou a very present help in time of trouble, unto this thy servant, who trusteth in thee !" While they were thus engaged, the lord chief justice sudden- ly stood for a few seconds before them, having, in haste, mis- taken the room for his own. After a moment's pause he silently retired, having recognized the benevolent features of Mr. Hylton, whose face had much struck him as he spoke on behalf of the prisoner. The chief justice had been aware of the prisoner's father having been in attendance all day in some adjoining room, and saw at a glance how the matter was. On entering his own room, the judge was so much affected with what he had just accidentally witnessed, that he did not resume his seat on the bench for a considerable time. 8S N O W A N D T II E ^. When Mr. Hylton had uttered a few more sentences of Scripture, with great fervency, the old man's tears began to fall, and he heaved a long, deep-drawn sigh. At length, "I scarce know where I am," said he, faintly; " yet — I have had help, but for which surely I must have died. Thank you, sir, for all your goodness to a poor heart-blighted old man !" he whispered, slowly rising from his knees, with Mr. Hylton's assistance, and sitting down : and then, his hand trembling, he drank the glass of wine which had stood beside him untouched, ever since he had first entered the room. "I — dare — not — ask — " he stammered; "all is over with him !" " I can not say that it is not so !" said Mi-. Hylton. " Oh ! Adam, Adam, my son ! would thou hadst never been born !" exclaimed the old man, lamentably. " Would I were dust, as is thy poor mother ! Oh, my Sarah ! my Sarah !" He placed his hands before his eyes, and the tears trickled down beneath them. "He hath not to live beyond Monday morning?" said he, with a sudden affrighted look at Mr. Hylton, who shook his head in silence. The old man groaned, and pressed his hand over his heart, as though it were bursting. " What shall I — what can I say to comfort you, Adam 1" said Mr. Hylton — " except that there is one never-failing source of succor — as you know well — both for you and for your son, and for all mankind !" " Oh, my son ! my son ! let me go to my son while yet he lives !" said Ayliffe mournfully, and taking his stick and hat, essayed to move toward the door. " Stay here, Ayliffe, while I go and see whether, by the rules of this place, you may be admitted to see him— that is, so soon after what has happened. Consider, too, what be has bad to go through this day, and that his health has besides been some- what shattered of late — as well it might be." Having received a promise from Ayliffe to remain in the room till his return, he withdrew, and, being a magistrate, found no difficulty in obtaining immediate access to the wretch- ed convict, who had been removed from the bar of the court to the condemned cell ; through the open door of which, he saw, as he approached, three turnkeys fastening upon him heavy irons, the chaplain standing in his robes beside him, and hold V iV D T li 13 N. 89 ing in his band a glass of wine, which he had an vain brought several times to the closed lips of the condemned man. This dreadful scene greatly agitated Mr. Hylton, who stooa for a moment, at a little distance to regain some measure of self-possession. " Come, my man, take the glass of wine the parson offers thee !" said the head turnkey, kindly, clapping his hand rough- ly on the prisoner's shoulder. Ayliffe started, looked with glazed eye at the turnkey, and breathing heavily through his nostrils, his lips remaining spas- modically closed. Mr. Hylton hereupon entered, very pale. " Adam, my poor friend, G-od be with you !" said he, taking the prisoner's hand. Ayliffe suddenly rose from his seat, but sunk down, his irons being connected to a strong staple in the floor. " I am stifled !" said he, groaning, and his breast heaving fearfully. " This is a grave !" he added, looking with horror round the narrow cell in which he found himself. " Open the door — I can not breathe!" " Adam, if you have not forgotten one who ever loved you," said Mr. Hylton, taking the wine from the chaplain, and bring- ing it to Ayliffe's lips, " drink this vyine from my hand." But the prisoner turned aside, convulsively gasping, " I choke ! 1 choke !" At length, however, he greedily swallowed the wine ; and then, as if for the first time noticing the robed figure of the chaplain, stammered, with a ghastly stare, " Who — who are you?" On the suggestion of Mr. Hylton the chaplain withdrew, a? also did the turnkeys, closing the door behind them ; and then Mr. Hylton was alone with the condemned. For some time his solemn admonitions were lost upon Ayliffe ; whose first con- nected words were — " The curse of God be on them that have condemned the in- nocent for the guilty — ay, a curse .'" he added, almost gnashing nis teeth. " Adam !" said Mr. Hylton, solemnly, " you are too near the immediate presence, of the judgmeiit-seat of the Eternal, to be indulging in these unholy thoughts." The condehined man glared at him wildly, evidently^ making a mighty effort to keep silent. 90 N O W A N D T H E N. •> __^. ___^ , " Your father is waiting to see you — ^heart-broken, yet bow- ing in reverent submission before God ; but so long as you cher- ish such resentful feelings I can not bring him to this cell." Mr. Hylton saw a change coming over his miserable com- panion, who seemed terribly agitated, and about to weep. " Does not your heart yearn after the sight of that saintly fa- ther of yours ]" continued Mr. Hylton, gently. The son raised his hand to his eyes, sighed heavily, and shook his head bitterly. " God is softening your heart, Adam," said Mr. Hylton, fal- tering with his own strong emotions ; "yield to His holy influ- ences ! Prom Him hath come all this that has happened to thee ! Oh ! let not Satan now steel thy heart, and close thino ears, that he may have thee presently his forever ! Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right ] Kneel down with me, my fellow-sinner, and let us humble ourselves before God, and be- seech his forgiveness and support !" The prisoner's tears flowed fast; and, sobbing convulsively, he permitted Mr. Hylton to incline him gently on his knees. Mr. Hylton uttered a short, solemn, and fervent prayer, in which Ayliffe evidently joined ; and presently rising, assisted by Mr. Hylton, began to exhibit an approach- toward compos ■ ure, Mr. Hylton speaking to him gently and soothingly. " You have much work to do, Adam, and little time to do it in ! Will you listen to me for a moment 1" The convict sadly bowed his head, and grasped the hand of Mr. Hylton in silence. " Do you from your heart forgive all who you believe may have injured you, as you would be yourself forgiven by God V Ayliffe paused. " No — not yet ! I can not truly say I do : but, with God's help, I will try." "He is at this moment helping you, in uttering these last pious words of yours. Within a few hours, Adam, how plain iy may you see the justice, and mercy, and wisdom of all that now appears the contraiy ! Prepare ! prepare, Adam, to meet your God ! Confess your sins, if you would have them forgiven ! Oh, how many have they been ! How many things have you done during your life, that will not now bear examination ! yet all must be examined, and judged hereafter! How much have you omitted to do that ought to have been done ! and all these things are noted against you, by an eye that sleepeth not ! N O W A N D T H E N. 91 And in this very matter — why, Adam ! rouse yourself — stir up your soul within you ! — reflect ! — -consider ! — what have you not confessed this day in open court, hefore your earthly judge — ^before all mankind 1 What, but the deadly malignity and revange that you had long cherished in your heart against your enemy ! — whom the Gospel told you to forgive ! — but whom you — oh, Adam ! — went, under a hellish impulse, secretly to be revenged on ! If God should enter into judgment against you, what have you to say 1 Look at the very root of this matter, concerning the hare which (small cause of so much evil !) led to all this. Did you not then stifle your conscience, which condemned you when first you were tempted to do wrong? Oh ! where was then your Bible 1 Where were your father's warnings ? where were my humble teachings ] Had you but re- sisted at the first — at the very first — would you now have been here, Adam! And was not Providence opening for you, through my unworthy exertions, a way for you out of your troubles 1 Think, Adam, of the steps by which you have gone wrong, and done deliberate wickedness, and brought yourself directly hither ! I say not this, Adam, believe me, to chide and trouble you in so awful a moment as this ; but am only striving to set you right with your conscience, that when I am gone, and before we meet again on earth, and while your precious moments ebb fast away," here Mr. Hylton was greatly moved, " you may think of your sins, and humble yourself under the mighty hand of God, and give ear to no temptings of the fieiid who would seduce and delude you !" Ayliffe clasped his hands together, and, gazing upward, said tremulously, " I do confess my many and grievous sins, oh, God ! and more now they seem than ever seemed they before !" " The world in which you still, for a little, live," continued Mr. Hylton, " is fading fast from before your eyes, Adam ! It passeth away ! It perisheth ! From you within a few hours does it disappear, and is only somewhat slowly vanishing fi-om ine, and from all living ! Hither were we sent for trial only, and but for a brief space ! — then return we to Him who sent us ; who is eternal, omnipotent, omniscient, just, and merciflil ; and who will assuredly, as he hath distinctly told us, render to every man according to his deeds !" Mr. Hylton uttered all this with thrilling solemnity; and, as he closed, the condemned man sunk again on his knees, in 92 N O W A N D T II E N. an attitude of profound devotion. Thus he remained for some minutes, neither he nor Mr. Hylton speaking. At length Ay- lifTe rose slowly, and resumed his seat. " Adam, let me ask you a great question — one that I will never ask a second time, be your answer what it may. Tell me, who am a minister of that God before whom you are so soon to appear, and now that all earthly hope is over — are you innocent or guilty of the crime for which you are to die V The condemned man calmly elevated his hands and eyes to- ward heaven, and, with awful solemnity, replied, - " G-od knoweth that I am as innocent as the child that hath not been born ; and may He reconcile me to die for that which I never did, nor know who did, nor why. May I, before I de- part, cease to think it hard that the innocent should die for the guilty !" Mr. Hylton gazed at him in troubled silence. " Do you believe, sir, that I am innocent of this murder V Ayliffe suddenly inquired, turning to Mr. Hylton a face that wore an awful expression — ^having no anger or sternness in it, but being, in a manner, radiant with truth from heaven, which seemed to lighten into the mind of Mr. Hylton, who replied, solemnly, " As T live before G-od. Adam AvliiFe. I do !" NOWANDTHEN. G3 " The will of God be done ! Is she — is my poor Sarah — is she gone 1" He shook in every limb. " No, Adam, she is not; but I must own it may be that you will both meet sooner than you now think for. She lies trem- bling on the very verge of the grave. A breath might — " " Oh, poor soul ! — oh, dear Sarah ! — oh, my own wife !" cried Ayliflfe, dismally. " Mother of my child ! — must we never meet tgain on earth 1 And my child ! — oh, that thy mother had nev- )r borne thee to me !" Mr. Hylton bowed his head at this bitter outbreak, and his eyes overflowed with tears. " Let her not know of my death, if she live afterward, till she may, with God's blessing, bear it. And the old man — my poor father ! — where is he V suddenly inquired Ayliffe. " He is now in the prison, and hath been there all the day long, and now, doubtless, is wondering why I return not to perform my promise, and bring him to see you. Can you now bear to see him, Adam, if I bring him 1" He gi-oaned ; and, after a long pause, said, soiTowfully, " It can not hurt me — but may it not kill him V " I hope and do trust not, Adam. He, like his son, has sought for succor from above ! He knows, poor soul ! the worst of what has happened, and I doubt not his coming' may at first giieve, but directly after it will comfort thee." With this, Mr. Hylton quitted the cell, and presently return- ed, supporting on his arm the grief-worn father of the convict, even the gruff turnkey pitying him as he passed silently along, He almost dropped to the earth at sight of the two turnkeys, standing with blunderbusses at the door of the condemned cell in which lay his miserable son. They were about to search the old man before he entered ; but the governor having been ap- pealed to, gave permission for him to be admitted into the cell after only a nominal search, provided Mr. Hylton or a magis- trate would stay in the cell during the whole of the interview — an undertaking which Mr. Hylton gave with great reluc- tance, hoping to have been spared so sad a scene ; for sad, in- deed, and heart-rending it proved to be. It lasted not long, however ; for the limits of indulgence al- lowed by the prison rules to the condemned had already been nearly exceeded whea Mr. Hylton re-entered with the old 94 NOWANDTHEN. Oh! how great was the consolation afforded to fa.i/4" aiicB son by Mr. Hylton's declaring his conviction that that son was really innocent of the barbarous and horrible crim© for whicl) yet he was to die ! Never had the father doubted < f his son'a innocence from the moment of his solemn assertion of it when first his father had seen him in the jail. On Mr. Hylton's mmti this solemn asseveration of the prisoner had produced a pro- found impression — one painful and intolerable ; for hojiimself. of course, as implicitly and absolutely believed that assertion, a? he had professed that he did to the prisoner. Fixed in surh a belief, how awful appeared the insufficiency of all earthly modes of investigation, and administering justice, deliberate, impartial unimpeachable even as had been that of the memorable day which was then closing. " Oh," thought Mr. Hylton, "how, in this dim scene of ac tion, we grope in the dark after truth, and mai/ miss it, and dt miss it, after all our best-directed efforts. And how fearflil the consequence of eiTor !" NOWANDTHEN. 95 CHAPTER IV. Mr. Hylton bad himself heard the whole of Ayliffe's triai ; and felt that, had he been either judge or juryman, he could not possibly have come to any other conclusion according to the evidence, than that the prisoner's guilt had been fully es tablished that day in court, corroborated, too, most powerfully by his own voluntary acknowledgment ! " But what," thought Mr. Hylton, as he slowly conducted his heart-broken companion from the jail, to a small house where he had engaged a room for him for a day or two, that he might be near his son during the few hours left him of life, "what is to be done ? What time is there for doing that which may be done ? Here is Friday night — and on Monday he dies !" Sitting down with old Ayliffe, as soon as they were alone in the room which had been provided for him, Mr. Hylton, en- deavoring to speak in such a guarded and desponding manner as should kindle no hopes which might be disappointed, en- gaged him in unrestrained conversation concerning what had been stated in court by Mr. Oxley, touching the alleged origin of both the Ayliffes' ill-will td the earl and his family. With lively indignation did Mr. Hylton hear of the insulting and oppressive conduct of Mr. Oxley ; and when he heard, above all, of his outrageous allusion to the workhouse as the destined refuge of old Ayliffe, and of the scornful fury with which the condemned man had cast the offensive speaker out of the cottage, Mr. Hylton was confounded, on remembering Mr. Oxley's statement to the judge, that there never had been any ill-feeling or cause of dispute between him (Oxley) and the Ayliffes ! This Mr. Hylton mentioned to Ayliffe ; who there- upon told him that on Mr. Oxley's coming to his legs again, after being jerked dovra by young Ayliffe, as has been do- scribed, old Ayliffe heard him say, with a venomous look to- ward young Ayliffe, " Ay, ay, Master Ayliffe ! I owe thee a turn for this !" 96 NOW AND THEN. As time was precious, and the evening was far advanced, Mr. Hylton hurriedly took leave of his companion, promising, rather vaguely, to see him again as soon as possible. On his way to the inn where his horse was put up, he was not a little concerned to see a traveling-carriage-and-four roll rapidly by him ; and on inquiry found that it was that of the lord chief justice, who, having finished the assize scarcely an hour before, was already on his way to London. Mr. Hylton rode round by Sir Henry Harrington's, on whom he called, and found him ill in bed ; but, stating the urgency of his errand, Mr. Hylton was admitted instantly to his room, and took down, verbatim,, Sir Henry's account (signed by him- self) of the expression which the condemned man had used on the occasion of his conviction for having had the hare in his possession ; and that expression was precisely the one which Mr. Hylton had written down in court, and handed to the pris- oner's counsel, and which had been peremptorily denied by Mr. Oxley. " Here, then," thought Mr. Hylton, as he urged on his horse rajDidly homeward, " are two things — malice established in Ox- ley against the prisoner ; and a false, or, at least, an erroneous, account given by Oxley of the words which had been used by Aylifife, as showing settled malice against Lord Milverstoke and his family. But, alas !" thought Mr. Hylton, as he revolved the matter in his mind, " what do these two things really amount to ? Does the fatally conclusive proof on which Ayliffe had been condemned depend on Mr. Oxley % Suppose even all that he had said at the trial were struck out from the evi- dence, would not the glaring facts proved and admitted by the prisoner remain V and Mi'. Hylton reflected on the fearful summing-up of the judge, knowing not how to impugn any part of it. If this were indeed so, then must poor AylifFe be left to his fate, and the innocent (as Mr. Hylton believed him) die the shameful and horrid death of the murderer. Thoughts like these greatly depressed Mr. Hylton — exhaust- ed, moreover, as he was with the agitation and excitement of that dismal day, during which he had scarcely tasted any re- freshment. When within a mile of Milverstoke, he slackened his pace to give his horse a little breathing-time ; and had hardly done BO, before he heard the sound of some one approaching on horseback, a little to his right, evidently from the quartei NOWANDTHEN. 97 where the barracks lay. As he passed the entrance of the by- road which led to them, he saw an orderly come trotting up at a brisk pace, and who was going to pass him (it being about nine o'clock, and dark). Suddenly, however, the soldier stop- ped his horse, saluted Mr. Hylton, and said, " I ask your pardon, sir; are not you Parson Hylton, sir ]" " I am he," said , Mr. Hylton, sufficiently surprised, rein- ing up. " Well, sir, I am the third man that has been ordered from the barracks within this two hours to your parsonage, sir, with a letter to you, sir, from Captain Lutteridge. I have it now. sir. Here it is," giving it to Mr. Hylton ; " but you can not read it in the dark." " I suppose, my man, you don't know what it is about ]" " No, sir; I know nothing of the matter; my orders weio only to take this letter, and bring an immediate answer, sir, if you were at home ; and my two comrades' that went before earned each this letter, and brought it back, as you were not at the parsonage, sir." The barracks were at little more than a quarter of a mile's distance. " Go back, if you please," said Mr. Hylton, " as quickly ao you choose, and say that I follow you." " Yes, sir," replied the man ; and galloped back as fast as Mr. Hylton could have desired : he following pretty briskly, wondering much what urgent matter might be astir. Arrived at the bairracks, he was forthwith shown into a private room, where two officers (one of them considerably older than the other, of a stern, matter-of-fact, soldierly appear- ance) joined him before he had had time to do more than open the letter which had been given him by the soldier. After a hasty but handsome apology for troubling him — and especially for the liberty which had been taken, without orders, by the soldier, in stopping him on his return home — " It is known to us," said the elder of the two. Captain Lut- teridge, " that you have great concern in the case which has been this day tried at the assizes, concerning the murder of the late Lord Alkmond: and my friend here. Lieutenant Wyls- den, who was present at the trial, has come back, telling us that the judge said he thought it very strange that Lord Alkmond should have gone out, as he truly did, into the woods on that night ; and asked whether any one knew the cause." E 98 N O W A N D T H E N. " Sir, the judge did say so — and in so saying, expressed that which I and others iiave often felt and talked about." " "Well, sir, little I know about it ; but, for aught I know, that little may have some bearing on the case of the man this day condemned for the murder. This, then, is all I have to say : I, do you see, sir, was at my Lord Milverstoke's on the night of the murder, dining there, and afterward at the ball, till it was suddenly broke up by the news of my Lord Alkmond's murder. Now, when we were all at dinner naught happened ; but some time after, when my Lord Milverstoke and many others had gone to the ball-room, Lord Alkmond and some few of us remaiued behind, principally officers ; and a certain one present chanced to speak of a subject which several immedi- ately talked upon ; but not Lord Alkmond, who seemed sud- denly sad, and even troubled. I sat next to him, and I saw that he grew very much troubled indeed as the talk went on ; but why, I could neither know, nor guess. He suddenly spoke to me of some matter altogether different — but I saw that he was listening, as though in spite of himself, to what the others were saying — especially when one of them, a nobleman, not now, I believe, in England, told us of a thing which had hap- pened to him (or that he had heard of, I forget which). Then Lord Alkmond did, as I thought, grow suddenly far more troubled ; and I, for politeness' sake, moved to go : so did the others, except two, who talked very earnestly together, still on the same subject. My Lord Alkmond bade us, with forced gayety, go to the dancing; saying that he would before long rejoin us — I sportingly said, ' No, come with us.' ' By and by ; I have a small matter to do,' said he, and so we parted, never again (as it proved) to meet alive. Now, this is all I know, Mr. Hylton, and it may signify little, and yet may mean a little ; being a soldier, I know not what bearing all this may have on law matters ; but as the judge, it seems, asked a question which, had I been there, I could have so far answered ; and as the judge flaid, so Lieutenant Wylsden tells me, that it was strange that on such an occasion my Lord Alkmond should go into the wood — why, I too say it was a little strange. The man that has been tried to-day is convicted, and will, I suppose most justly, die on Monday ; therefore, sir, I have sent to tell you what you have now heard ; but what you can make of it, I know not." These last pregnant words seemed to startle Mr. Hylton out N O W A N D T H E N. t)U of a revery into which he had fallen, while listening in silent amazement to Captain Lutteridge. " May I trouble you, reverend sir," said the captain, "to ask whether you have seen the prisoner since his sentence ]" " I have," replied Mr. Hylton, as if his mind were bent on something else. " Does he stand firm 1 The lieutenant here tells me he is a marvelous tall, well-built, and strong man, and would have made a fine trooper. Methinks I must have seen him about, some time or other, in these parts." " "What was that matter, sir, on which you gentlemen were speaking; at which the Lord Alkmond grew so troubled 1" in quired Mr. Hylton, anxiously. " Why, look you, sir, is it necessary that I should say what passed at the table of my Lord Milverstoke ] for I was the guest of his lordship ; and we can not, I reckon, speak of any thing there spoken of." " But I implore you, sir, consider that within little more than forty-eight hours an innocent man may be swinging on a gibbet ; and what you have now told me may—" Captain Lutteridge appeared quite nonplussed at this turn of the matter ; it never having occurred to the frank and high- minded soldier that such a question was likely to be asked. Now it seemed to him to be directly contrary to good manners, and the rules of hospitality, that he should disclose any thing that had taken place on an occasion of unrestrained private intercourse, at his host's table ; and that, too, relating to the son of that host, and under such afHicting and awful circum- stances. " I entreat — I earnestly implore of you to tell me, sir," said Mr. Hylton, eagerly. " Sir, you see, I never thought of this, nor did any of us, as we talked the matter over in our room there, so I am at a loss suddenly to answer you. Let me tell you, sir, that it seems certain to me that the thing can have no real meaning. What could the late Lord Alkmond, sir, have had to do with this man who has been this day tried for murdering him 1 Did he dine with us, sir, and hear what we said ? And if he did, still it plainly could have signified nothing in such a case." "Oh, forgive me, captain — ^forgive me ! It may have every bearing; the most vital, for what you and I, at present, can know. You said, but a moment ago, most truly, gallant sir 100 NOW AND THEN. that you, being ati officer, knew not the bearing which the thing might have on law matters." " Ay, I did ■ then say so, but I never thought of the question which you would presently ask, sir." This Captain Lutteridge said somewhat stiffly, looking rather angry. " And even though it had a bearing, sir, do you wish me, a gentleman and officer, to tell out of my host's doors what took place within, be it a matter great or little 1 Sir, you should not, being yourself a gentleman, stand upon your question." " But I must, captain ; life is at stake : this poor man, I de- clare in the presence of Heaven, I believe to be quite innocent." " Phew !" exclaimed the captain, with an air of complete astonishment, and a touch of disdain too. " And that, reverend sir, after my lord chief justice and a jury have found him guilty? Who shall know better than they ? Besides, the lieutenant here tells us that your very innocent man confessed the deed in open court. Did he not V turning to his brother officer. " Yes ; I say so, captain ; he did." Mr. Hylton interposed, " No ! no ! no !" "I say he did, sir!" quoth the^liautenant sternly; "or at least he did as good, or I had in^/&rs or understanding ; and so said also the judge; I mark^Tit well — " " I assure you, lieutenanti'^^*^mmenced Mr. Hylton, very earnestly. " Why, look you, reveren'd^^^^*Tnterrupted the lieutenant, " did not the prisoner say plainly and loudly that true it was he got the blood on his coat fptoi my Lord Alkmond's body, and ran away with a bloody Mudgeon for his life V " Yes ; but he said, also, that he did not do the deed, and only feared he might be thought to have done it." " And there, sir, I reckon, he lied," quoth the lieutenant, warmly. " Interfere between us, captain, for the love of God, and for pity to man !" said Mr. Hylton, appealing to Captain Lutter- idge, who was a much older man than the lieutenant, and during the latter's brief contention with Mr. Hylton, had stood looking at the fire in a very thoughtful manner. On being appealed to — "Be quiet, Mr. Wylsden," said he, quickly and authorita- tively, to the fiery subaltern ; then turning to Mr. Hylton, he continued : " Sir, I have been thinking of this, and it seems to me now a somewhat graver matter than it appeared to me just N O W A N D T II E N. 101 now ; for, as you say, sir, this man will hang in forty-eight hours; and, if he ought not to hang, that would (as I think) be unjust, though all the judges in the world said otherwise. I will speak to you in a few minutes, sir, wishing on this noint to consult those who are within there." With this the two oflBcers hastily withdrew, leaving Mr. Hylton in a state of no little excitement, impatience, and amazement. What extraordinary aspect was this miserable case about now to assume? What could this conversation have been about, that such a mystery was made of it ] Troub- led as he was, and serious as was the case, he saw clearly and respected the motives which influenced the simple-minded and honorable soldier, in demurring to give him the answer which he had besought. Presently he heard loud and earnest talking in the adjoining room, which was the officers' mess-room. "I say, nay!" — " 'Tis monstrous!" — "'Tis unofficer-like !" — " Pity 'tis you named it, captain !" were expressions which he could not avoid hearing. Presently all the voices dropped to a lower key, and he heard nothing for some minutes but whispering ; and at length his impatience, which was becoming quite intolerable, was relieved by Captain Lutteridge, who came in alone, shutting the door after him, and his flushed face showed that he. had borne an active part in a somewhat keen discussion. " Mr. Hylton," said he, very courteously, "I have taken advice with several of my brother officers in there, and we all do think this a case of much difficulty and some danger, and that may, perhaps, for all I meant well, bring some discredit on me in the nature of tattling or eaVes-dropping, and that, too, on so sad and bloody a business. What I have resolved to do is this, sir : I will first see my Lord Milverstoke and take his orders — that is, his pleasure on the matter — and if he object not — " " Then is poor Adam Aylifie sacrificed !" said Mr. Hylton, despairingly. "How so, sir?" quickly asked the astonished officer. "Of conrse, sir, though my Lord Milverstoke should be ereatlv hurt—" ^ ' " No, no, I mean, sir, there is no time for all this ! It is now near ten o'clock on Friday night, and if any thing be done to get a respit even, I must go off to London by the coach pass- ing through Milverstoke at midnight; and consider, dear cap- 102 NOW AND THE N. tain, how long it will be before I reach London — how much 1 have to do there, and must yet be back before Monday raori) ing!" " Sir, all this is doubtless so," said Captain Lutteridge, look- ing the picture of blank perplexity : he was rapid and decisive enough in military matters, but here he seemed for a while at fault. '' Ho ! without there !" he suddenly exclaimed ; " sad- dle my horse and another, instantly, and let Hickson, or some other, be ready to accompany me without one moment's delay." " Why this 1 why this, captain ]" inquired Mr. Hylton. " Sir, I am going to my Lord Milverstoke's, and if he grant me leave, I will follow you on to London, if I gallop all the way on horseback." " Once more, sir, let me tell you how I honor you for youi highmindedness ; but will you not act on your own judgment, and let me quit for London immediately with a somewhat lighter heart V " No, sir, not if I die for it, till I have seen my Lord Milver- stoke." Mr. Hylton sighed heavily. " Do you know his lordship 1" "Not intimately; only as an hospitable nobleman, who en- tertained us all at a most princely banquet." " But I know his temper and character well, captain — haugh- ty, stern, inflexible— and as this matter, above all others — " " I care not," said Captain Lutteridge, proudly, " for his haughtiness, if he were iifty Lord Milverstokes ! • I will see him and take his wishes on the subject, and, if need be, strug- gle for his consent. No man shall hang unjustly, if I can help it ; but, look you, Mr. Hylton, upon my word and honor I think nothing will come of all this, and I fear, when I may have dis- turbed and grieved, and it may be angered, Lord Milverstoke, the matter that I may be permitted to tell will signify little or nothing ; I can not see how it does, I assure you." Here the servant' announced the horses ; and hastily bidding adieu to Mr. Hylton, on whom he promised to call in returning from the castle, and, if Mr. Hylton had gone to London, follow after him post-haste, if need might be; but if Lord Milverstoke proved inexorable, of course Captain Lutteridge would take no further steps. Off galloped the captain and his man at top speed, followed at a more moderate, but still a quick pace, by Mr. Hylton. If what had just taken place appeared strange, however unsat- NOW an6then. lOJl isfactory and tautalizing, there awaited him, presently, intelli- gence still more so; and calculated to invest the case in which he had interested himself with real mystery. When he was ajjout to dismount at the parsonage door, behold, Mrs. Hylton, unable to restrain her imgatience, rushed forward to meet him ; and before he could give his horse into the hands of the old gardener, who also had been for the last two hours anxiously looking out for him, and even before Mrs. Hylton could speak to him about the dismal result of the trial, she put an open letter into his hand, saying — " There, dearest ! read it ! read it !" Shortly after his quitting the parsonage in the morning, Mrs. Hylton had also gone, pursuant to a previous arrangement with him, to the infirmary, which was at about five miles distance, to be present with the unfortunate wife of the man who was to be that day tried for his life. Some three hours after the par- sonage had thus been deserted for the day, the post came in, bringing a letter addressed to Mr. Hylton, and marked outside " post-haste." The gardener had accompanied Mrs. Hylton, and only the old housekeeper and a servant girl were left in the house. On Mrs. Hylton's return, about six o'clock in the evening, this letter caught her eye, and having opened it in consequence of the words " post-haste," guess the feelings with which she read as follows : — " Rectory, Midgecombe, 28tli March. " Dear Mr. Hylton, " In my husband's absence, on an expedition in which I am sure you would take an interest, seeing it is to preach a charity sermon on behalf of a lying-in society about to be founded, and in which the bishop takes a great interest, and has invited my husband to officiate on this occasion, I have opened several let- ters which came for him. yesterday and to-day, and one of them appears to have come from some place on the French coast, and relates to that horrid murder of poor Lord Alk- mond, that is to be tried (I think my husband said) at the close of the assizes for your county. I do not know the particulars of the case, but this letter seems written by some one who has lived in this parish, and knows my husband ; and says, in ef- fect, that the man that wrote it is a mate in a small coasting vessel; and having seen a country paper, telling about the 104 NOWANDTHEN. murder of Lord Alkmond, recollects one of their men being in a boat on the very night it happened, his vessel being at a couple of miles' distance, waiting for this man to return on some errand from the shore. He says it was nearly opposite Mil- verstoke Castle, and he recollects hearing guns fired in the wood, and, immediately before or afterward, he saw one, or it might be two persons, running very quickly along the shore. He says the sailor recollects it, because he supposed 'twas some poaching business. He says he looks forward to being in England very soon, after they leave Dunkirk, where the letter seems written from. As the man who is accused is un- fortunately a parishioner of youi's, and doubtless you may take an interest in the case] I thought it right to tell you of this curious letter, which I would have sent, but that I expect my husband home hourly, and thought it better to keep the letter till he comes. With best remembrances to Mrs. Hylton (how is she in this bitter cold weather 1) — " I am, dear Mr. Hylton, " Yours sincerely, " Fanny Mbrton." "P.S. — The man's name is -Jevons,' or some such name (but horridly written), and my maid says she recollects that there was a young fellow of that name near us some years ago, and thinks he went to sea. By the way, the letter says some- thing about a note in the log-book." The letter almost fell from Mr. Hylton's hands, by the time that he had breathlessly read it over; and he looked so harass- ed and confounded, that his good wife, who had a world of questions to ask him, slipped out of the room into an adjoining one, where preparations for supper had been going on, and brought him a glass of wine, which he dranlt from her hands, almost mechanically. " If we had had this letter at the trial to-day !" he ex- claimed. " Sure, my dear ! I have not done wrong ? I never saw it till I came back this evening." " No, my dear Mary, how can you suppose it ! This is a most extraordinary accident — ^^if, indeed, there be such a thing as accident." " But, poor Ayliffe" — she interposed, anxiously. He shook his head. NOWANDTHEN. 105 " The worst has happened. He is condemned to death, and is left for execution on Monday morning; the judge made it an awfully clear case of guilt ! but I have been with poor Ayliffe since, and verily believe him as innocent of it as you or I. How is his poor wife ? Did she know what was going on]" ■" No ; the doctor had taken care to give her some sleeping- medicine, and she has dozed all day long." "Mary!" said he, suddenly, "I start for London by tie coach to-night. I will go to the secretary of state's about this miserable victim of mistake." " Why, the coach will be here in three-quarters of an hour's ime !" " Put me up, dearest, a change of linen at once, to be ready — " " But get your supper, first." Having hastily swallowed a little refreshment, he went out to borrow ten pounds froni his church-warden, who lived near him (not, himself, having suificient money by him). Having obtained the necessary supplies, and made what hasty arrange- ments the time admitted of, especially in respect of his Sunday duty, which gave him great anxiety, lest there should be no one to do it, owing to this hurried movement, he carefully placed in his pocket-book the all-important letter above men- tioned, also the memorandum signed by Sir Henry Harring- ton, and kissed his wife, who bade him God-speed. " But, my dear, suppose," said the good lady, suddenly, " suppose there should be no room in the coach, outside, or in !" " Oh dear, dear ! that never occurred to me ; really, Mary, you are always supposing such mischances — -" " Yes ; but, dearest, you know we must consider these things !" Here they heard the distant horn of the approaching vehi- cle ; and, followed by the gardener, bearing a small portman- teau, Mr. Hylton made his way quickly to the inn where the coach changed horses ; so tormented by the possibility (over- looked by himself) of there being no place for him, that he nearly forgot Captain Lutteridge's expedition to the castle. When that occurred to him, he became very anxious, straining his ears in the direction of the wood, but beard no sounds. Fortunately, there proved to be a vacant place on the 106 NOW AND THEN. coiich ; had there not, it might have gone hard with poor Ay- lifFe, for posting up to London was a very serious matter, and quite beyond Mr. Hylton's means. This was a little auspicious circumstance, which dwelt long and often upon his mind, as they rattled onward to London on his momentous errand. In about five minutes' time the coach rolled smoothly and rap- idly past a small, solitary cottage, near the roadside, for which Mr. Hylton's eye had been on the look-out, while a pang shot through his very heart ; for he thought of the poor child lying there, all unconscious that its mother was on a bed of death — even if then alive; and its father heavily ironed in the horrible condemned cell, doomed to die the ignominious death of a murderer within a few short hours, unless Providence should vouchsafe success to the efforts at that moment being made on iiis behalf by Mr. Hylton. Unuttered by his lips, from the depths of his pious and trustful heart, proceeded an humbltj prayer to God, from this his minister, that He would be pleas- ed to give his blessing to the undertaking in which that minis- ter was then engaged. The night was bitterly cold, and Mr. Hylton much exhaust- ed from long-continued anxiety, and want of rest and food. Once or twice he would have fallen into the road, but for the interposition of his friendly and more wakeful neighbor, who told him, with a smile, on the occasion of his being thoroughlj roused from fitful sleep, about three o'clock, by the echoing sound of the guard's horn, and the thundering clatter of hoofs and vvheels through one of the silent towns on their way, where they changed horses- — that any one who had heard him might have supposed that he was some capital convict escaping from Jack Ketch ! "What, friend!" said Mr. Hylton, slightly confused, "do you say I have been talking in my sleep 1" " Ay, sir, I reckon you have, indeed," quoth the coachman, with a respectful laugh'; for he of course saw that Mr. Hylton was a clergyman ; and was, besides, himself at that place sur- rendering the reins to his successor, and had gratuities in view ! No more on the road slept Mr. Hylton ; nor spoke he more than a word of casual and constrained civility to his fellow- travelers, being intently concerned with his own weighty and troubled thoughts. He was going to introduce himself forth- with to a great minister — the secretary of state, without know- NOWANDTHEN. 107 Ing how to obtain access to so exalted a functionary ; being utterly ignorant of all matters of official etiquet and procedure, and unacquainted with any one in London who could give him assistance in his desperate emergency. He trusted, however, to the purity of his motives ; the consciousness of a courage that no fear of man had ever daunted; and the support and blessing of God. But still he could not blink the difficulties of the case. He was bent on interrupting the due course of the law, on a memorable and unhappily notorious occasion ; he was trying to get interposed the royal prerogative of mercy to- ward the convicted murderer of Lord Alkmond, after an un- exceptionable trial, before the eminent Chief Justice of Eng- land, who had publicly and solemnly declared his entire ap- proval of the verdict which consigned the prisoner to the gal- lows. And with what weapons did Mr. Hylton come armed ] His heart sunk within him as he surveyed their inadequacy. Suppose Mr. Oxley and his evidence were discarded alto- gether from the case ; was it not impregnable, as built on un- questionable facts and the prisoner's own acknowledgments 1 What could he say, as a matter of conscience and honor, of the singular communication which had been made to him by Captain Lutteridge, utterly ignorant as Mr. Hylton was of the nature of the conversation which appeared to have agitated Lord Alkmond shortly previous to his murder ; and, above all, restrained as he was from making any use of that communica- tion, till authorized by Captain Lutteridge 1 And as for the letter received from Mrs. Merton, he had not that original let ter with him ; in short, Mr. Hylton, as he drew nearer the mighty Babylon which he had not seen for upward of a quarter of a century, became more and more dejected and desponding. That simple-minded .and gallant officer, Captain Lutteridge, performed his promise to Mr. Hylton to the very letter, but felt exceedingly disconcerted as he rode rapidly along to the castle. For, at what a moment, and on what a subject, was he approaching the Earl of Milverstoke 1 On the very day on which his son's supposed murderer had been capitally con- victed; having little or no personal acquaintance with his lord- ship, beyond having several times experienced his splendid hospitalities; intent upon tearing open cruel wounds, just as they might be imagined beginning to heal — by suggesting all sorts of painful and agitating surmises to the earl concerning 108 NOW AND THEN. Lis deceased eon, if his lordship were indeed unacquainted with the facts concerning which Captain Lutteridge was com- ing to speak. " Egad, I shall be thought a paltry, gossiping, mischief-maker and eaves-dropper ! What business had I to have said one syllable about a private conversation at the cas- tle ] Why must I mention it at all 'i Bah !" The captain bit his lips; his gallop subsided into a canter, then into a trot, and the trot into a walk, as he thought of all these things ; and by the time that he had reached the park-gates, which his attendant had gone forward to get opened, greatly to the astonishment of the gate-keeper, the captain walked his horse very slowly indeed — slower and slower, and at length fairly stood still for some minutes, as did also his mechanical follower, who would have stood so for a fortnight, or any longer given period, as a matter of course, without inward questioning or surprise, if so had done, or ordered, his commanding officer. But he recollected that his promise had been given, and that, too, on a matter of life and death; and suddenly urging- his horse, soon made his way along the winding, gloomy road leading to the castle, and reined up his reeking horse, and dismounted just as a couple of tall servants, startled by his attendant's appeal to the bell, slowly drew open half the great central door, and came out to inquire who it was that had arrived at so unusual an hour. A great wood fire that had blazed in the hall during the day was now burned down to red embers ; and only a dull, flickering light fell from the huge antique lamp suspended from the lofty ceiling. The captain strode into the hall with a stout heart, and said, in his usual peremptory way, " Is my Lord Milverstoke in the castle V " He is, sir." " Send some one hither immediately, who may take a mes sage to his lordship ; I am Captain Lutteridge." For a moment or two he was left alone, and inwardly pro- rested that he would give a hundred pounds to see himself de- cently at the end of this strange and bootless expedition ; for he felt now certain that he should appear before the harassed peer in no other light than that of a very impertinent and un- feeling intruder. Presently came the personage for whom he had sent ; who, with an air of great politeness, assured the captain that on no account could his lordship be disturbed at that hour, being just NOW AND then'. 109 about to retire to his chamber, and being, moreover, somewhat indisposed. " Take his lordship, nevertheless, my name, sir, immediate- ly, assuring hira that were my errand not most pressing I would not trespass on his lordsnip's privacy in this manner." On this the gentleman bowed and withdrew, leaving the captain with all the comfortable composure of one consciously standing on a mine certain to explode within a minute or two. He was presently invited into an adjoining chamoer, wh^re he saw a gentleman in black, who begged to be favored with the nature of his business at that hour with the Earl of Mil- verstoke. " Is it not enough, sir, for me to say who I am, and that I must see his lordship, if it be only for a minute or two, on business that admits of no delay 1 In short, life and death being, possibly, concerned." The gentleman gave him a strange look for a second or two, and then withdrew, pi-omising to return very shortly with the earl's pleasure. " My lord was about retiring, and is indisposed to see any one, sir," said he, returning after the lapse of a few minutes ; " but I am to say, that after what you have mentioned, sir, his lordship can not but receive you for a short time. Will you follow me, sir 1" So the captain did, with a certain quaint, cheerless determina- tion, mixed of courage and shame; and presently was ushered into a magnificent apartment, where sat the earl, alone, in evening dress, in deep mourning, with a melancholy counte- nance and a restrained demeanor. " I have the honor to receive you. Captain Lutteridge," said his lordship, with a courtesy manifestly tinged with stern sur- prise, " at a very unusual hour, at your pressing instance. I am told that you represent it as concerning matters of life and death. What can you possibly mean, sir ]" " Though I feel, my lord, that I appear intrusive, and a great effort it has cost me to come, I don't relish, I must own, the tone in which your lordship is pleased to address one who has the honor to bear his majesty's commission, and has had also the honor to be a guest of your lordship." "Captain Lutteridge, I beg your pardon," said the earl, loftily, " if any thing in my demeanor has offenJed you. I am no NOW AND THEN. not well, Captain Lutteridge ; and you may possibly be able to guess that this is a day not calculated to compose my spirits." This last was said with real dignity and sorrow, and his frank yiaitor's pique had vanished as the words were uttered. " Being a soldier, my lord, I will come to the point. Your lordship has, of course, heard all that took place at the trial of— of the man — to-day 1" " Sir, I have," replied his lordship, gloomily. " 'Tis about something that happened during the trial that 1 have been, in a manner, compelled to come to your lordship in this untimely manner; the man dies on Monday morning, my lord, if the law take its course." The earl gazed at him in silence for some moments, with a very peculiar expression of countenance, and the captain gazed at the earl ; and both were silent. " Well, sir, and what then V inquired the earl, slowly. " Oh, my lord, do not mistake me ; I am not come to plead for a murderer !" " I earnestly entreat you, sir, to be so good as to inform me immediately of the object of this your very extraordinary er- rand to me ; I protest that I am quite confounded, sir, at present.'' " Your lordship's known firmness of character will, I am sure, tolerate my alluding for a moment to the — noble victim of the convicted — " " In the name of Heaven, sir, what are you talking about V inquired the earl, with a startling change of countenance. " Do not, my lord, be distressed ; I will come at once to the point. On the fatal evening which made your lordship Bonless, I had the distinction of being one of your lordship's guests ; I remained with the late lamented Lord Alkmond" — the earl visibly shuddered from head to foot — " and one or two others after your lordship and others had withdrawn ; and to- day, in court, the judge, it seems, inquired — " " I have heard, sir," said the earl, in a subdued tone, but still with great sternness and making evidently a great effort to overcome violent emotion, " that the chief justice asked a question which was not answered. Have you heard, sir, what that question was 1" " Yes, my lord ; it was concerning the strangeness of the Lord Alkmond's quitting the castle at such an hour." The earl involuntarily closed his eyes for a few seconds, in mani- NOWANDTHEN. Ill fest mental agony. " I can not tell, my lord, what was the cause of his lordship's leaving on that occasion." ' Captain Lutteridge, I may see you," said the earl, " on some other occasion." " I pledge to your lordship the honor of an officer and a gentleman that the very few words I have to utter must be said now or never !" "Do you wish, sir, to see me fall prostrate at your teetl" inquii'edxhe earl, with an air of extreme misery. "No, my lord; and I will conclude in a moment. My lord, I recollect, on the occasion to which I allude, a conversation arising after your lordship had withdrawn — I took no part in it — I saw that, for some reason, the subject talked of grow more and more distressing to my Lord Alkmond : I tried to change the topic, but it seemed fated to be persevered with ; and at length my Lord Alkmond was so disturbed, that. I, with whom he was talking, arose much concerned, to quit the room ; whether others observed it I know not, but we parted ; I go- ing to the ball-room, his lordship toward the corridor leading to the terrace ; that is all, my lord, that I know ; and this has brought me hither ; I am to ask your lordship for leave to tell all this, signifying much or signifying little, to those who may say it is likely — in short, my lord, 'tis said by some — that there IS a mystery hanging over this case, and that efforts will be forthwith made in the proper quarter to spare the man's life long enough, as 'tis whispered, for further inquiry, if so be there remain time ; that is, the man having to die, by his sen- tence, on Monday morning : therefore, my lord, I, thinking it only 'just to stir in this, when, unfortunately, having chanced this day to let fall to others that which, till now, had never passed ray lips, am here, as I said to your lordship, on matters of life and death — " here the castle clock struck eleven; and the captain added suddenly, " if it be not, my lord, already too late, the coach passing through in an hour hence." Captain Lutteridge was so completely absorbed with his own earnest feelings and the existing complicated movements of his own mind — at best, moreover, no very acute observei of the manner of others — that he did not see the tremendous agitation which his noble companion was doing his utmost tc suppress. Had the light, too, been somewhat brighter, the captain might have observed evidences in Lord Milverstoke's striking countenance of the shock which his straightforward 112 iV O VV A N D T II E N. and unthinking visitor had occasioned him, by the strange ac- count which he had given concerning the mysterious conversa- tion at the banquet, immediately preceding Lord Alkmond's exit from the castle into the viroods, from which he was destined never to return alive. At length the restrained breathing of Lord Milverstoke, becoming every moment more and more violent, attracted the attention of Captain Liitteridge. "Why, my lord, I fear much that I have disquieted your lordship — that you seem ill. God forbid, my lord, that I should have done all this ; but I never thought it would have come to this point, or never wtiuld I have stirred in the mat- ter. I hope I have your lordship's pardon for an untimely visit ; one which I begin to fear is somewhat unmannerly. But did your lordship never hear of all this before 1 Seeing three or four others heard it besides me, and now I wish I had not. My lord ! my lord ! you seem ill ; shall I call for assist- ance 1." Lord Milverstoke heaved a vast sigh, and stretched forth his hand violently, deprecating the threatened movement of the captain, who was utterly bewildered by the sight of such fear- ful mental agony, which he could not account for satisfactorily, merely by referring to his present visit and the communication which he had made. " Shall I retire, my lord V said he. Lord Milverstoke rose hastily, shaking his head, and walked to and fro rapidly, with even increasing agitation, having, indeed, a far deeper cause than was dreamed of by the captain, though he had unknowingly called it into action. The earl walked with heavy step to the door, and secured it ; then returned to his chair, and, in a low, smothered voice, said, " What was the subject that you talked of?" The captain told him in a single word, which caused Lord Milverstoke suddenly to sink back in his chair as though he had been shot. Captain Lutteridge instantly rose and went toward the door, saying to himself, aloud, " Now will I have help ;" which words, added to the loud sound of his footfalls hastening to the door, roused Lord Milverstoke, and, with a great effort, he exclaimed, " Sir — Captain Lutteridge — pray, sir, let us remain alone : this is my house — surely, sir, I am master here !" Both remained silent for some minutes, during which the N O W A N D T ll E N. 113 flustered faculties of Captain Lutteridge were occupied with only one thought — " Could any man living have supposed all this would have come out of it!" Language, indeed, could not adequately describe the feelings which were at that moment convulsing the very soul of Lord Milverstoke within him, for a new and fearful light had been suddenly reflected on some scenes between him and his late son, which had always occasioned the earl, even in his son's lifetime, anxiety ; and, after his death, serious disquietude. The former, . however, had been in no small degree tinged with displeasure ; the latter, with grief and misgiving. The unbidden visitoj before him, on whose face the earl's eye was fixed, half uncon sciously, had, as it were, ruthlessly opened the grave of Lord Alkmond, that his miserable figure might glide reproachful!]' and in terror before a father who had ever, by his own auster Ity and pride, checked and disheartened that son, when he mirrht have meditated reposing hearty confidence in his fathei-, SIS between man and man. " What may not my poor Alkmond have been burdened with when he — when he implored me— in vain," — thought the earl, pressing both his hands to his burst ing forehead, and then pacing to and fro, with an expression of countenance which led Captain Lutteridge to fear the possi- bility of his being alone with one who was about to burst out into madness. The captain resolved, therefore, simply to be on his guard, making his observations in silence, upon the per- turbed spirit before him. The earl appeared to start from one revery only to sink into some other, more agitating; but gradually the continued violence of his feelings seemed to be somewhat abating. At length, " My lord, it is long since the clock struck eleven," abruptly exclaimed the captain, rising. " Is it, sir ]" inquired the earl, languidly, and as though he did not comprehend why the captain had made the observation. " Yes, my lord, nearly half an hour : the coach goes by at twelve, and Mr. Hylton starts — " " What, sir 1 what, sir V interrupted the earl, sternly. " Oh, I had forgotten, sir ; private circumstances. Captain Lutteridge, which you know not of, nor ever can, have caused your last words to stab me as with a knife ! And besides, sir, sorrow has, of late, not a little shaken my nerves." " My lord, I can not adequately express my regret ; but time presses — what is to be done 1" 114 NOWANDTHEN. The earl looked as though evidently making a strong effort 10 address his mind to what the captain was saying to him. " The man hangs, my lord, past praying for, on Monday morning — " , " And why should he not, sir 1" thundered the earl, in a voice •vhich echoed througr, the lofty and spacious apartment, and 'or a moment all trace of his lordship's previous agony had disappeared. " Why, my lord, perhaps," said Captain Lutteridge, stoutly and calmly, "he may not be rightly condemned." " Are you in your senses, sir ]" inquired the earl, vehe- mently. " Yes, my lord," replied Captain Lutteridge, quietly. " I think you are not, sir ! Nor are you, sir ! Do you, in your calm senses, come hither to the father of one so savagely murdered" — his voice shook — " as my son was, and speak of the accursed miscreant convicted of it, as possibly innocent, against proof as clear as that Cain murdered Abel 1 And did I hear, sir, aright, that you and Mr. Hylton — Mr. Hylton — are laying your heads together to defeat justice — to call my son in anger and horror out of his grave V He paused. " My lord, a plain-spoken soldier am I, and must needs come to the point. The time, my lord, the time !" he continued, in a loud and peremptory tone. " What is your object here, sir %" inquired the earl, witli gloomy fierceness. " Can I have your lordship's leave to tell Mr. Hylton that which I have just mentioned to your lordship V "No, sir," answered the earl, again in a voice of thunder; and his eye seemed to glance lightning at his companion, who bowed and said, rather sternly, " That, my lord, suffices. God forbid that I should so far forget the character of an officer — of a gentleman — as to utter a syllable more to any one living, upon the subject, without your lordship's permission, in whose house T heard it. Time, therefore, now no longer presses, my lord," said the captain, with sad emphasis ; " and I can but, in quitting your lordship, ask your forgiveness for thus having troubled you so unwar- rantably." " What can this, that you have told me, sir," said the earl, with returning agitation, " by any possibility have to do with the bloodthirsty miscreant that is to die on Monday 1 Should ^ O W A N D T II E N. 115 you not, sir, have considered that, before you came this night hither?" " My lord, I did consider, and that to the best of my power ; and I myself said, that. even should your lordship give me the permission which I sought for, I saw not its bearing on the case of him that is to die on Monday." " Nor. has, it, sir ! nor can it, sir ! — not one iota !" The , earl seemed suddenly moved by some inward feelings of a less stormy nature than those by which he had hitherto been agitated. " Captain Lutteridge," said he, " I am a man nearly broken down by misery and misfortune, heavier than man can bear : therefore I ask your pardon, very heartily, sir, for any discour- tesy of. which I may have been guilty ; but you have taken me frightfully by surprise." The utter wretchedness of the earl's voice and manner, as he uttered these words, penetrated the heart of Captain Lut- teridge. " My lord, I trust you will say nothing of it. I owe your lordship unspeakable amends for what I have done ; and now see what methinks I might have seen before, had I considered the matter fully," replied the captain, heartily ; " but it was the thought of life and death that led me astray." "Do you not think, sir, that if I believed there were any reasonable doubt of the guilt which has been openly proved to-day, according to law, against the prisoner, I would not, from mere justice, wish him to escape %" " G-od forbid that you should not, my lord." " But this man, sir, has long had a deadly malice against ma and my family, sir — so has his father : you know not a tithe of the matter, captain, I verily assure you." "My lord, I know nothing of it, but from public talk." " Did you say, sir, that this night persons are traveling to London to attempt to procure the pardon of a clearly convicted murderer %" " My lord, Mr. Hylton has, by this time, I reckon, taken his seat in the coach, and such is certainly his object : so I undei'- stood him." The earl said nothing, but sighed with mingled anger and astonishment. After a pause, " Captain Lutteridge," said he, " may I ask 80 great a favor of you, as that you will speak to me again on 116 NOWANDTIIEN. Tuesday upon the subject which you have this evening com- municated to me 1 I never till now heard of it ; and can it be doubted, sir, that any thing relating to my late son, my unhappy Alkmond, must be of painful, nay, frightful interest to me 1" " Most willingly shall I attend your lordship." " And in the mean time. Captain Lutteridge, I implore you to spare the feelings of a bereaved father, and talk not of these matters to others, when your so doing may serve only to spread idle and distressing rumors. Remember, sir,"^his voice quiv- ered — " his youthful widow ! she at present survives — is at this unhappy moment under the same roof with you, but may soon follow her murdered husband to the grave." " That grave shall not be more silent than I, my lord !" The captain, as he uttered these words, rose, and bowing low to the afflicted peer, who courteously and sadly bade him adieu, quitted the apartment, and immediately afterward the castle, riding rapidly home to the barracks, his mind in a strange tumult. He had seen no little service in his day, but never before had meddled with such matters as had just occur- red between himself and the Earl of Milverstoke. When he had reached the inn where the coach stopped, he found that Mr. Hylton had gone by it to London some quarter of an hour before ; and, without knowing precisely why, the captain took it for granted that, after what had just taken place at the castle, Mr. Hylton's errand was in vain, and that, before his return to Milverstoke, the convict Ayliffe's body would be in the hands of the surgeon. Rather late in the afternoon of Saturday Mi'. Hylton arrived in London, and put up, for the few hours during which he in- tended staying there, at the inn where the coach stopped. Ho took very little time to dress, and still less to partake of re- freshment, that he might not lose a moment of his precious time. Forth, therefore, he sallied toward Westminster, with the situation and localities of which he had, in earlier days, been not unacquainted. As he was hurrying along the crowd- ed streets, the incessant and strange hubbub of which seemed stunning to a comparative recluse like himself, desperately fa- tigued also, and absorbed with a most portentous mission, it suddenly occurred to him, as he got in sight of the government offices and ministerial residences, that he was a total strangei in London, having come off without credentials or introductions of any kind. How, then, was he to expect reception and atten- NOWANDTHEN. 117 tion at the secretai'y of state's, on a matter, moreover, of such magnitude as attempting to stay the execution of a criminal, whose conviction for so enormous an atrocity as the murder of Loi'd Alkmond had become a subject of national attention ] As all this suddenly flashed across his mind, he stopped, struck liis stick despairingly on the pavement, and for some moments arrested the attention of every passer-by, as the very image of one in a horrid quandary. For, looked at from this point of viewf, the grounds or materials on which he had been relying for the success of his application seen^d suddenly shrunk and shriveled into nothing, or at least gross inadequacy to their object. But the miserable image of AylifFe, lying heavily ironed in the condemned cell, brought within a few hours of etei'nity — the sands of life running out fast — and he, too, a per- fectly innocent man, as Mr. Hylton in his conscience believed him, quickened his movements, and restrung his relaxed en- ergies. Silently invoking God's blessing on his humane enterprise, he hurried onward, and presented himself at the door of the secretary of state's office, before which was slowly pacing a sentry, who paid no attention whatever to his inquiry whether the secretary of state were within. Making up his mind to encounter and disregard all kinds of discourtesy, so as he but gained his object ; and trusting some little to his sacred char- acter and appearance, and his consciousness of having a gen- tleman's address, he entered the outer office, from which were at the moment passing several gentlemen, drawing on their gloves, and some holding riding-whips in their hands, intending forthwith to mount their horses, which were standing at the door. One of these, a gay young gentleman, evidently of quality, Mr. Hylton, in a very courteous manner, spoke to as he was passing, heartily laughing at some joke of'his compan- ion, who seemed very obsequious to him. " Sir, I ask your forgiveness for the intrusion," quoth Mr. Hylton, in an earnest manner, taking off his hat; "but is the secretary of state within?" " What though he be 1" jocularly interposed the companion of the gentleman who had been addressed, who, however, took off his hat with a very bland and highrbred air that nobly contrasted with that of the rude intruder, and said, " Lord Farnborough, sk-, is within, but can not be seen, being here Deyond his usual hour of attendance, engaged on business of lis NOWANDTHEN. great importance : but, reverend sir, can I do aught for you in the mean while 1" " I greatly thank you, sir, — " " My lord, if you please" — interrupted the other with an air of vulgar obsequiousness, which was fittingly rewarded by his noble companion desiring him, with transparent contempt of manner, to see whether his lordship's horse was in readiness. " Will you follow me, sir, for a moment ]" said the young loi-d, and immediately turned back, requesting Mr. Hylton to accompany him ; and tjie two walked through several long, lofty, dusky passages, till they arrived at the room which Mr. Hylton's companion had only just quitted. Having ordered out the servants, who were busily engaged arranging the chairs and tables, " What may be your errand, sir ]" said he, in a very gracious manner. " My lord — for 'tis plain I, through unacquaintance with town, mistook your lordship's rank and station ; at this — " " Oh, think nothing of it, sir, I beg," said his lordship, rather hastily. " I have just come up, my lord, concerning a case of life and death — " " Oh ! some prisoner left for execution at one of the assizes 1 I understand ; proceed, sir, if you please. , But may I ask who you are, sir?" " I am the Reverend Henry Hylton, Vicar of Milverstoke, ray lord." " Ho ! Milverstoke ! Milverstoke ! That is the place," said his lordship, with a very grave air, " where the man was yes- terday convicted for the murder of my Lord Alkmond, Lord Milverstoke's son 1" " Yes, my lord ; he is to suffer his sentence on Monday, un- less he be respited ; and on that subject I have come up, and have but just quitted the coach." " Oh ! seeking a respit ? but that, you know, especially in such a case as this — however, of course, you are prepared with grounds V " I am, my lord." " Sir, you shall see my Lord Farnborough immediately ; he will, I am sure, receive you, however otherwise occupied he may happen just now to be." On this his lordship vdthdrew, leaving Mr. Hylton alone for NOW AND THEN. llS) a few moments, who took out his pocket-book, saw that his few manuscripts were there in readiness, hastily arranged his thoughts so as to express himself with the utmost possible brevity, point, and force, and, after scarcely three minutes' ab sence, his lordship returned, followed by a gentleman, whom he desired to show Mr. Hylton into the private room of Lord Farnborough : a minute more, and the all-important interview between Mr. Hylton and the minister had commenced. The nobleman who then filled that vastly responsible and arduous oifice was an eminent statesman — a great man — the whole of whose energies and resources were just then taxed to the uttermost by the distracted state of the country, and the necessity of promptly and effectually providing for its safety, and at the same time justifying his measures against a most malignant opposition. Mr. Hylton, himself a man of intellect, was instantly charmed by the minister's appearance ; for he looked calmness itself, and, though evidently harassed, by no means oppressed by his multifarious and distracting duties. He quietly pointed to a vacant chair nearly opposite to him, and on which Mr. Hylton immediately sat down. "Will you be so obliging as to state shortly your business, sir 1" said he. " I presume, my lord, you have heard of the murder of the Lord Alkmond V " Yes, sir, and I find that a person named AylifFe was yes- terday tried before the lord chief justice, at the assizes, con- victed for the murder, and is left for execution on Monday." " That is so, my lord. I am the Vicar of Milverstoke, and the convict is an old parishioner of mine, of hitherto spotless and exeriiplary character. I am perfectly satisfied that he is really innocent of this charge." " How came he to be convicted, then ? Have you any evi- dence that was not laid before the judge and jury ? Or do you imagine that there has been any miscarriage ]" " If you will permit me, my lord, to state briefly the nature of the case as laid before the jury — " " Pardon me, sir, a moment," said his lordship, gently ring-, ing a small hand-bell ; on which a gentleman entered, to whom he whispered in a low tone. The gentleman withdrew, and Mr. Hylton proceeded to give a brief and lucid sketch of the case as proved, to which he saw the minister listening with perfect attention. t 30 N O W A N D T H E N. While Mr. Hylton was proceeding, the gentleman above spoken of reappeared, but immediately withdrew, after having silently placed a sheet of paper before the minister, who glanced at it for an instant only, and resumed his attitude of close attention to Mi\ Hylton. " I perceive, sir," said he, when Mr. Hylton had concluded, " from your succinct and candid statement, that any difficulties which might be supposed to have existed, were conclusively disposed of by the prisoner's own acknowledgment to the jury. I must say that it appears to me an unusually strong case for a conviction. You ask me, sir, to advise the exercise of the royal prerogative to stay the execution of the law — a matter always of infinite delicacy, and, in this case, responsibility — and I at present see no sufficient grounds for doing so. Since you have been here, however, I have ascertained that the lord chief justice has arrived in town, and is now at his house. I expect his report this evening ; in the mean time he is the per- son to whom you should address yourself." " My lord — forgive me, but did I succeed in making myself understood to be asking now for a short respit only, to afford time for inquiry 1" " Perfectly, sir. You had better go at once to his lordship, who has power to order — with whom, indeed, it in the first in- stance properly rests — the respit for which you ask : but I recommend you, sir, not to be sanguine." " But will his lordship receive me at once 1" " Unquestionably, sir ; in serious matters of this sort, every body is always accessible : God forbid that it should be other- wise." The minister's significant glance, as he concluded uttering the last words, at evidently a newly-opened dispatch, apprised Mr, Hylton that his audience was over. Bowing profoundly, he withdrew, the minister courteously returning his salutation, while he drew before him the important and pressing docu- ment of which Mr. Hylton's arrival had prevented the perusal. Mr. Hylton soon found his way to the room where he had left the young lord, who was there waiting for him. The former was anxious to have spoken on the subject of his inter- view with the minister, but from his lordship's manner con- cluded that such a procedure was contrary to etiquet, and contented himself with asking, the address of the lord chief justice, which was immediately procured for him : and shortly NOW AND 1 UF.S. VJ.. afterward Mr. Hyltou got into a coach, and drove straight to the lord chief justice's house, greatly disheartened by the re- ception which he had just met with from the courteous Lord Farnborough. On inquiring whether the lord chief justice was within, a footman, somewhat superciliously answered in the affirmative, but that his lordship having only a few hours before returned from circuit, was about sitting down to dinner, and could on no account whatever be disturbed. But Mr. Hylton pretty sharply said that his business admitted of no delay. The butler, a corpulent, baldheaded, gentlemanly person, happening at that moment to pass along the hall, and hearing the peremptory tone in which Mr. Hylton was speaking, came forward, and in an affable manner, said that he had no objection to hear shortly the nature of the gentleman's business, and by and by teli it to my lord ; but that his lordship certainly could not be disturbed till after dinner. The grave nature of Mr. Hylton's errand, and the earnest humor of his mind, prevented his being amused, as he otherwise would have been, by these menial airs. " Tell his lordship, if you please," said he, quietly, " that I am the Reverend Mr. Hylton, the Vicar of Milverstoke." " Oh ! is it about the Milverstoke murder, sir 1" quoth the butler, with a good-natured air. " 'Tis a very awful murder, folks say." " Take in my name, sir, instantly, to his lordship !" said Mr. Hylton, sternly. " Bless us !" said the butler, half-whistling, out went to the library, and, after a few minutes' absence, returned quite an altered man, bowing most obsequiously; and Mr. Hylton was immediately ushered into the presence of the lord chief justice, a man considerably advanced in years, of benevolent counte- nance ; careworn and grave ; a very great lawyer ; of simple and pure character, and very unassuming manners. He sat beside a large fire, in dinner-dress, but had been busily en- gaged reading when Mr. Hyltoii's name was announced ; in short, his lordship was carefully looking over his notes of several capital cases, and, among others, of that which had brought Mr. Hylton up to town. The instant that his name was men- tioned, his lordship recollected the very striking scene which he had accidentally witnessed, immediately after sentencing the Milverstoke murderer ; and nothing could be more respectful or cordial than his reception of Mr. Hylton. F 123 NOW AND THEN. "I fear I can only too surely conjecture, reverend sir,'' said his lordship gravely, "the object of your visit to London; it must be connected with that terrible case of the murder of Lord Alkmond, tried before me yesterday." " It is so, my lord, indeed," replied Mr. Hylton, sighing. The lord chief justice shook his head, shrugged his shoulders with dismal significance, but said nothing. " I trust that I shall be able, my lord, notwithstanding those ominous gestui'es of your lordship, to satisfy you that a case is made out for, at all events, some little postponement of the execution of the sentence, in order to afford time for inquiry — I say — for inquiry — for inqui — " Mr. Hylton suddenly seemed unconscious of what he was saying : having become very faint, and sinking back in his chair — for a moment overcome with exhaustion, want of food, and long-continued agitation and excijoment. The lord chief jus- tice instantly ordered in a glass of wine, giving it him with his own hand, and using many kind expressions. Mr. Hylton soon recovered himself, offering apologies, but attributing the weak- ness frankly to the true cause. " Ah ! sir," said his loi'dship, kindly, " there are very agitating affairs, even to us judges, however long we may have been ac- customed to this melancholy part of our duties ; but let us go in to dinner, Mr. Hylton — nay, I positively insist upon it — I am quite alone, with the exception of my wife, whom I have scarcely seen since my return from circuit a few hours ago, or you and I would dine together alone. You can not do justice to your case, whatever it may be — trust me — till you have a little recruited your physical energies ; and we have both traveled far and fast since we met; and I, too, am somewhat exhausted." Mr. Hylton intimated that dining would be, in his own case, just then, an idle ceremony. " Sir," interrupted the lord chief justice, with an air of good natured peremptoriness, " I will not speak a syllable to you on business, however pressing, till we have both enabled our- selves, by a meal as brief and frugal as you please, to attend to It with revived, and only befitting energy." This proved irresistible, and Mr. Hylton presently found himself sitting at the plain and unostentatious dinner-table ot the lord chief justice and his lady. Not a syllable was spoken by either his lordship or Mr. Hylton concerning the subject, nor NOW AND THEN. 123 on any thing akin to it, which was to be so solemnly discussed bv them after dinner; and before half an hour had elapsed from their sitting down, they both withdrew to the library. " Now, Mr. Hylton," commenced his lordship, with a sud- denly resumed judicial air, " I have before me my notes of the trial of AylifFe, yesterday. What have you to say on the sub- ject ] Has any thing important come to light since the trial 1 For if not, I must tell you, at the outset, not to be too sanguine. A clearer case, I think, I have seldom, if indeed ever, tried. I trust you have no fault to find with the way in which I put the case to the jury 1 Pray, speak freely, reverend sir ; we are all liable to error." " My lord, I frankly assure you that I can take no exception whatever to your lordship's summing up : it was fearfully simple ;and cogent, but perfectly and absolutely fair." " Why, you see," said the chief justice, thoughtfully, " the man's own hands fastened the rope round his neck : he volun- tarily took up a po-sition from which the wit of man could not extricate him. Had he been acquitted on such a state of facts as went to the jury, trial would be a farce. He brings himself to the body instantly after the murder, and runs away bloody, and with a bloody weapon capable of committing the murder, as was sworn by the surgeon. Even if he thought he had struck the man whom, according to his own story, he meant to strike, what signifies it in point of law ? The person whom he so killed by mistake, he murdered: God forbid, reverend sir, that there should be any doubt about that !" " Oh no, my lord ! — I do not presume to question the law which your lordship laid down : I own it seems to be perfectly reasonable and just. But I venture to come now, my lord, at once to what I humbly but confidently submit will satisfy your -ordship that this case can not possibly rest where it does at present." " Well, let me hear," said the lord chief justice, disposing himself in an attitude of great attention ; but the tone of his voice seemed, to Mr. Hyltori, to argue something like a fore- gone conclusion as to the futility of what was to be brought before him. - " Permit me to ask your lordship, that I may not be over- estimating the value of what I a.m going to adduce before you, whether you did not deem of great importance the ab- sence of all sound of footsteps in the wood, on the iiight of the 124 NOW AND THEN. murder, in any other direction than that in which the prisoner ran V " Certainly, certainly ; surely I myself pressed the witnesses on that part of the case, and remarked on it to the jury ?" " You did, my lord." " And indeed the point is most important. If you recollect, Mr. Solicitor-general read a passage from Lord Coke, in which that very condition is relied on as an integral part of what he calls his violent presumption of guilt." " Well, my lord," said Mr. Hylton, evidently with no little excitement and expectation, taking out from his pocket-book the letter of Mrs. Merton ; which, after explaining who tho writer was, and how it was that her communication had not come to his hands till after the trial, put the letter into the chief justice's hands, and eyed him, as he perused it, with extreme anxiety, scrutinizing every feature. The chief justice read it attentively — very attentively, even twice — looking at the outside, the post-mark, and superscrip- tion ; and all the while in perfect silence, and with a counte- nance from which it was quite impossible to collect what impression had been produced on his mind. Then he quietly laid down the letter, toward Mr. Hylton, whose face fell as he said, " Well, my lord, what think you 1 Have I overrated the im- portance of this letter 1" " You have not had the experience that I have had, Mr. Hylton," said he, with a serious air ; " nor have you any idea of the cunning devices to which prisoners and their friends will have recourse, to mislead inquiry and divert suspicion. I have known of one or two, and heard of several instances very like the present." " Why, surely, surely, my lord, you can not have borne in mind who the writer is — a lady, a friend of mine, wife of a clergyman, and she of a most exemplary character 1 The idea, my lord, of her — " " Oh, Mr. Hylton, you quite misapprehend me. Independ- ently of even your own testimony, I think I know a little my- self of this lady : she belongs to a noble family" — Mr. Hylton nodded — " and her husband is a distinguished divine, I believe. This good lady believes, doubtless, in the genuineness and au- thenticity of the letter she speaks of; but" — ^he shook his head — " that carries us a very little way on our journey indeed ! I told you not to be sanguine, Mr. Hylton, as you must remem- ber. Besides, where is the original ] How could any judge safely act, in even the most trivial case, on the document now before us — ^not even a copy? And even the original would, in my opinion, carry ua no farther. Come, my dear sir," said he very kindly, observing Mr. Hylton's blank and crest-fallen look, " can you yourself supply me with reasons against the validity of those with which I am forced to encounter your letter 1" ■' Yes, my lord. Remember, I pray you, that I am not ask- ing for a pardon — not calling on you to assume the functions of a jury — but only to interpose a little time for inquiry before this poor wretch goes hence and is no more seen ! Suppose he be executed on Monday morning, and the same afternoon the writer of the letter in question arrives and incontestably estab- lishes the truth of what is contained in it]" " Why, suppose he did, Mr. Hylton 1 Apply an unbiassed mind to the case, as if you had yourself to administer jus- tice. By the way^ are you a magistraite %" Mr. Hylton nod- ded. " I am glad of it. Suppose the writer did actually see one, or two, or any number of men running along the shore, as represented : how are they to be connected with the bloody transaction in the wood 1 Is it not separated from the shore by cliffs r' " Yes, my lord, but by no means by lofty cliffs ; persons have been known to drop over without injuty : there are no rocks beneath. And who knows but that- those very persons may have done the deed 1" The lord chief justice shook his head ; but took up the let- ter and read it again, with, as Mr. Hylton sanguinely supposed, more thoughtfulness than his lordship wished to appear. " Pardon me, my lord," said Mr. Hylton, " but there occurs to me another way of putting the case. And while we discuss, how fast fly away this man's precious moments !" " I am perfectly and painfully aware of that, reverend sir," replied his lordship, looking pointedly at Mr. Hylton, who felt the delicate rebuke, and bowed. " I was going to say, my lord : Suppose 1 had received this letter, or the one to which it refers, before the court opened yesterday, and the prisoner's counsel had applied to your lord- ship to postpone the trial till the next assizes V " Sir, that is well worth considering, undoubtedly. You put your points very ably, Mr. Hylton." i 2(5 N O W A N D 'J' II E N. Again the chief justice took up the letter. "Is tliin in Mrs Morton's own handwriting?" he inquired, apparently care- lessly. " I will swear to it, my lord. And, by the way, for aught I know, Mr. Merton ma^ by this time have brought or forwarded the original letter to my house, and it may be there awaiting me at this moment." " Certainly, certainly ; that may be so," said the chief jus- tice, musingly, but still discouragingly. " Is this the only mat- ter which your are desirous of bringing before me 1" he in- quired. " Oh, no, my lord : I have three others." " I shall be very happy to hear them, sir. Pray proceed." " What I now am about to mention, my lord, is of a confi- dential, and at present, I own, unsatisfactory nature ; but, if time be given, I am not hopeless of discovering something highly important. Your lordship recollects observing, at the trial, on the singularity of Lord Alkmond's having gone out into the woods at such an hour of the night, and when such festivities were going on at the castle." " Undoubtedly : it is indeed a curious circumstance, which I should like to have had, if possible, explained. Did I not ask some of the witnesses about it 1" " Yes, my lord : Mr. Oxley, Lord Milverstoke's agent. Since the trial — but I repeat, my lord, that I am at present in cir cumstances of exquisite embarrassment on this subject." The lord chief justice looked with great curiosity at Mr. Hylton on his saying this. " I have some reason to believe, from persons of stftion, that Lord Alkmond's going into the wood was not so wholly unaccountable as at present it appears, but was con- nected with a circumstance or circumstances which may possi- bly — I say possibly, my lord — come to be fully disclosed ; and tlie person to whom I allude was in communication on the sub- ject with another person of exalted station at the moment of my quitting Milverstoke. The issue I shall not know till I re- turn ; but I have heard sufficient to excite lively anxiety and curiosity ; and possibly — but, my lord, I repeat, only possibly — the result may be suddenly to invest this dreadful transaction with great mystery. My word, however, is pledged to take no further steps at present, nor to indicate even the nature of what I have heard, without the express permission of the person to whom I have been alluding. I may, however, tell your lord- NOW AND THEN. 12T ship that I am acting on information sent to me wilh great anxiety, in consequence of a gentleman being present at the trial, who, on his return home, communicated to a friend that which had fallen from your lordship, and led him to use hig very utmost exertions to bring this matter to my notice imme- diately. Thrice had a mounted messenger from him been at my house between the close of the trial, and my return to Mil- verstoke ; and I met the messenger, and followed him back, while yet on my way home. It is a scruple of extreme deli- cacy alone that suddenly prevented this gentleman's at once communicating to me what he knew." To all this the chief justice listened with profound attention. " I am sure, Mr. Hylton," said he, gravely, " that a gentleman of your very superior capacity, to say nothing of your position as a clergyman and magistrate, is aware of the responsibility attaching to any thing said by you to me on such an occasion as this, and that you can not be unconsciously yielding eagerly to first impressions and misty conjectures V " My lord, I speak most advisedly, in my conscience believ- ing it possible — and at present I put it no higher — that there may be something in the background fully warranting the step which I am taking. I do not feel myself at liberty, speaking for a moment as a man of even mere worldly honor, to men- tion who is the person of whom I am speaking, or what his station in society. Nay, my lord, I now recollect that he ex- pressed his own belief that the matter would prove not to be connected wilh that in question ; but he had previously men- tioned enough, of what 1 can here say nothing, to make me take a very, very different view of the affair." " And you say that this matter is at this moment in a train of inquiry V " Undoubtedly, undoubtedly, my lord." " Very well, Mr. Hylton ; all this is very curious, at least. What next V " Why, my lord, I have, I think, discovered facts tending to impeach the perfect trustworthiness of Mr. O.vley as a wit- ness." " I doubt whether that gentleman's evidence really touches the merits of the question one way or the other," replied the lord chief justice. " But the solicitor-general, my lord, on tlie part of the crown, pointedly mentioned that evidence to the jury; and 128 NOW AND. THE N. afterward proved it, as giving a peculiarly malignant com- plexion to the case." " He did, undoubtedly. Well, Mr. Hylton, and what of ilial matter 1" ""Why, the viray that it strikes me, my lord, is that Mr. Soli- citor-general may be supposed to have himself felt the import- ance of establishing a motive on the part of the prisoner for perpetrating so enormous a crime as slaying the eldest son and heir of a very eminent peer of the realm. However this may be, my lord, what prejudice may it not have worked against the unfortunate prisoner, turning the minds of his jury away from a dispassionate examination of the case 1" " Mr. Hylton, do not lay too much stress on such topics Look at the undisputed facts — the bloody reality, if I may so speak, of this dreadful case, standing even solely on the pris- oner's own voluntary statement : the bloody sleeve — the bloody club — and the affrighted flight from the very corpse of the murdered man ! Let us bring our common sense to bear on these few but terrible facts of the case ; and then how unim porfant become the topics which you seem about to urge, Mr Hylton. Pray proceed, however." " Shortly, then, my lord, do you remember how indignantly the prisoner repudiated the words put into his mouth before the magistrate who convicted him for having possession of the hare %" " I do, perfectly, and was struck with it, sir." " And your lordship may recollect his counsel proposing another form of expression, which was in consequence of a written suggestion sent him in court ? I, my lord, sent that paper ; I proposed that question ; for the magistrate (who also committed him on the charge for murder) had on that day told me the words which he had heard the prisoner utter; and I have here Sir Henry Harrington's own signed statement (here Mr. Hylton produced it), attesting the words to have been most distinctly heard by him, and to be — ' He shall smart for it, that brought me here ;' and Sir Henry observed the pris- oner glance at the man who had so cruelly and perfidiously used him." Mr. Hylton paused; so did the chief justice, presently ob- serving — " Well, Mr. Hylton, does all this carry ycur case a hair's breadth farther ] Suppose the prisoner went into the wood to kill, or feloniously assault his enemy, and by mis- NOW AND THEN. I'iD take killed the other? Have you not admitted that to be murder'!" " Forgive me, my lord, if I press these points too far," said Mr. Hylton, with sudden emotion, " but the interests of humanity impel me — I have a manacled and fettered figure perpetually before my eye." "God forbid, Mr. Hylton," said the chief justice, very solemnly and kindly, laying his hand on that of Mr. Hylton, " that you should suppose it necessary to: apologize for any .thing that you have said here. I wish you knew how greatly I am touched by your noble and disinterested exertions, which my heart is all the while most zealously seconding ; but God hath given me the scales of Justice to hold, and my reason must not be disturbed by my feelings. Proceed, dear sir, and say all that occurs to you, even stay you till midnight." How mildly and kindly was this said ! Yet the words rapidly froze the chief justice into a pillar of ice, as it were, before Mr. Hylton's eyes ; and for a little while he paused to overcome his emotions. " I feel, my lord, getting weak and exhausted in this mortal wrestle with your lordship, on so awful an occasion. 'Tis what I am not used to ; and I must soon cease." Ho seemed, for a moment, at a loss. " You were speaking of Mr. Oxley's perverted or mistaken representation of what had fallen from the prisoner." " I thank your lordship, and have only to say that Sir Henry is ill in bed, of the gout, or might have been at the trial and contradicted Mr. Oxley." " Is this gentleman, Mr. Oxley, supposed to bear any ill feeling toward the prisoner V " That, my lord, is the last topic which I was going to urge. The prisoner and his father (of whom, with your lordship's permission, a word presently) have been persecuted beyond all bearing — so they both tell me — by Mr. Oxley, who wants, as they say, to get them out of a small freehold cottage of the father's, in order that a new and more direct approach may be made from the highroad to Milverstoke Castle. Mr. Oxley has, doubtless, exceeded his instructions, and what he has done is probably all unknown to Lord Milverstoke; but Mr. Oxley's conduct has been unfeeling and insulting in the extreme to these poor people, who are in great distress; and not long before last Christmas, with a bitter sneer, Mr. Oxley predicted 130 NOW AND THEN. that the father would probably soon find himself in a much larger house — the workhouse." "The brutal fellow!" exclaimed the chief justice, indig nantly. " On this, my lord, the son, who was present — the prisoner, and who is a man of giant strength, rose from his stool, grasped Mr. Oxley by the collar, and flung him several yards through the door, like a rotten fagot." The chief justice made no reply. " On that occasion, my lord, the father heard Mr. Oxley mutter some sinister expressions to this effect — ' I owe thee a turn for this.' " " I think it very possible that he did say so; but was it Mt, Oxley who brought the prisoner to the bleeding body of Lord Alkmond, made him run away as for life, and then own it all in the open court ? Oh, Mr. Hylton !" "A word more, my lord," said he, in a very desponding tone, after both of them had been silent for some moments, the chief justice's eyes fixed on the fire, his face indicating that he was in deep thought — " a word more, and my melancholy mission is closed. I have known the prisoner and his father for upward of twenty years, and solemnly declare that the old man I have ever regarded as a perfect pattern of Christian virtue — as an Israelite in whom there is no guile — as one of the patriarchs of old ; I have seen him fearfully tried — in deep affliction — ruined at last by his generosity to another — a very second Job, my lord." Here Mr. Hylton suddenly stopped, for his voice failed him. The chief justice got up; and, as if to avoid seeing Mr. Hylton's emotion, slowly walked away, really, however, to conceal his own feelings ; but soon he re- turned. " Thou excellent person ! Thou servant of God ! Thou true Samaritan !" said he, greatly moved, and taking Mr. Hylton by the hand, " to my dying day I can not forget thee. I saw thee kneeling beside that old man ! When I am at my last end, would that so thou, or one as holy, might kneel be- side me !" " May God bless your lordship, living and dying !" faltered Mr. Hylton ; and it was not for several moments that either recovered his self-possession. " Let us now, Mr. Hylton, return to this sad business, said, at length, the chief justice, calmly, mildly, and very gravely, "Have you any thing further to urge^" wow A N U THEN. " Only that this poor soul, the prisoner, so far from being of the barbarous nature which could suffer him to do this deed of blood, is, and has been ever, beloved by young and old, who know him, as a youth of generous heart; has several times periled his life for others ; and has never done other- wise than as became a son trained by such a father as his, until sharp misery, and despairing love for his sick wife, led him to listen to the voice of the tempter, in that matter of the hare ! . And finally, my lord, yesterday, immediately after he had his irons put on, and was placed in the condemned cell, I was with him ; and, by all his hopes of heaven, he solemnly asseverates his total innocence, his absolute ignorance of the person who did, or the manner in which was done this horrible murder; and that when I had, to the best of my power, taught him that he had looked his last in life — that hereafter was close upon him. And, my lord, by my own hopes, and in the presence of Him whom I serve, I verily believe, notwithstanding all appearances, that this man is innocent, or I should not have been this day with your lordship, in whose just hands I now leave the matter." " It is one, Mr. Hylton, of some difficulty, and requires con- sideration," said the chief justice ; " and that consideration must be, as far as possible, perfectly dispassionate, and as deliberate as the urgency of the case will admit of. I shall read over my notes of the evidence with care, and give my best attention to all that you have so discreetly, and so eloquently, urged upon me this evening. You must leave with me that letter which you received from Mrs. Merton ; and, if you feel disposed to return hither in two hours' time, you shall know my decision.'' Seeing by his countenance and manner, that the chief justice desired immediately to be left alone, Mr. Hylton withdrew, the chief justice bidding him good evening, cordially, but so very gravely, that he unconsciously shot dismay into the very soul of Mr. Hylton. As he quitted the library, the butler approached, bringing him his h^t and stick, with very great respect, and in silence; and the next moment he was alone in the open air, determining to pace the gloomy square in which the chief justice's house was situated, or the immediate neighbor- hood, till the two hours should have expired. How anxiously as he walked about did he revolve in his mind all that had taken place ! whether he had omitted apy thing, or urged q,ny thing 1 32 N O W A N D T II E N. ineffectually ; also he pondered the whole demeanor of the grave and discreet chief justice ; his significant speech, his significant silence; how his practiced judicial mind would be likely to view the case : and then good Mr. Hylton thought within himself how lie would decide the case, were it in his hands ! At length, after having pulled out his watch more than twenty times, and waited for at least three minutes beyond the ap pointed two hours, Mr. Hylton presented himself again at the chief justice's door, another person mounting the steps at the same time, and whose face Mr. Hylton imagined that ho had seen somewhere before. This was the chief justice's chief clerk, who had been shortly before summoned to attend his lordship immediately. When the door was opened, this gentle man went at once to the library, and having knocked, was ad- mitted ; while Mr. Hylton was shown into a large empty dining- room adjoining. Presently he heard the library-door opened ; iteps across the hall ; then the street-door was opened and closed ; and Mr. Hylton was shown into the library, where sat the chief justice, looking somewhat fatigued, and returning his watch into its place. " Well, Mr. Hylton," said his lordship, calmly; " after much consideration of all the facts of the case, in all their bearings, as far as I could, I have felt myself at liberty to order a respit for the prisoner." " God bless your lordship ! God be thanked," commenced Mr. Hylton, excitedly ; but was promptly checked, for the chief justice elevated his finger, and slowly shook his head in a serious and admonitory manner. " I have thought it right, after your strenuous represen- tations, to afford a little time for further inquiry; but am bound to tell you, that I feel the very reverse of sanguine as to the ultimate issue. The more I consider it, the blacker seems the case against the prisoner, as it was proved at the trial before me and the public ; but God forbid that, when human life is at stake, the faintest chance of saving it, and preventing the dismal spectacle of an innocent man's life being forfeited, should be thrown away. All your energies must now be exerted tcestablish facts tending to raise a very strong presumption, against fearfully strong appearances. For this purpose I have granted a delay of a fortnight, that all neces- sary inquiries may be set on foot, especially with regard to the letter of which this speaks which you left with me : and you NOW AND THEN. 133 -Jirill have the goodness, at the earliest moment that is prac- ticable, to forward to me that other letter. It is right to inti' mate to you that, should you be so fortunate in your exertions, as, on a proper representation to the Earl of Milverstoke, to prevail on his lordehip to concur in recommending the prisoner to the merciful consideration of the crown, expressing a doubt as to the guilt of the prisoner, it might be attended with an important and beneficial effect, as coming from so distin- guished and deeply injured a prosecutor." To this suggestion Mr. Hylton listened in silent despair. " What use is to bo made by the prisoner of the brief extension of his earthly career, none knows better, reverend sir, than yourself, and I presume not to say a word on that subject. Humanity plainly dictates one thing — the steadfast depression of the prisoner's hopes to the very lowest point possible, lest the result of youi charitable interference should have been only to inflict twice on him the pangs of death. Good-by, Mr. Hylton, good-by; God speed "your efforts, and if the prisoner be innocent, may your efforts to show it succeed." " But the respit, my lord — I beg your lordship's pardon, but Monday morning is awfully near us ; when will your lordship order — " " Your anxiety, sir, is very natural ; but you may safely leave that matter in Tny hands," said the chief justice. " It ha» been already seen to ; the respit you may regard as already on its way ; it will be forwarded, for your consolation I may tell you, by two separate government messengers, and reach the jail, at the latest, to-mowow afternoon." Mr. Hylton saw plainly that the matter might not be pressed further ; but what would he not have given to be permitted, if practicable, to accompany one of the bearers of the precious little documents, which, some ten minutes before, had been signed in duplicate by the chief justice, directing execution upon Adam Ayliffe not to be done until the expiration of four- teen days from the date of that order of the chief justice ! So, with a heart beating gratitude to that merciful and con- siderate judge, Mr. Hylton respectfully took leave, and walked with buoyant spirits and quick steps to his inn, thinking to re- turn by that night's coach, but which he found, to his concern, had left upward of two hours before, Mr. Hylton having sup- posed that it would quit London at the same hour as it passed through Milverstoke — a mistake which he would soon have 134 NOW AND THEN. found out, but for his being so completely absorbed in the pressing and all-important affair which had brought him up to London. Unless he had taken a post-chaise all the way — which no adequate necessity justified him under the circum- stances in doing, and for which, indeed, he had not by him the requisite funds, nor knew where to obtain them at a moment's notice in London — he could not reach the county town in which at that moment lay the miserable object of his solicitude before seven o'clock in the evening, by an early morning coach, which did not start from the inn at which he was stay- ing, but at another in a different part of the town. On reach- ing his inn, he went straight to bed, quite overpowered with long want of rest, traveling, and mental exhaustion, but direct- ed himself to be called at half-past three o'clock without fail, that he might be in time for the early coach which left at hal'' past four o'clock. The moment, however, that he got into bod, he sunk into the black abyss of forgetfulness — into sleep un- broken and profound — and when hw woke scarcely knew where he was ; the place around him was quite strange, the sun shone brightly, and for some minutes he seemed struggling out of some wild and gloomy dream. A guard's horn pealing in the coach-yard beneath him, how- "iver, effectually recalled his scattered faculties ; and forth he iprung from bed in consternation. It was nearly nine o'clock, and the coach by which he had hoped to start was then somf forty miles on its way toward Milverstoke ! He rung his bell hurriedly, and all he could learn from the boots was, that he had knocked till he was tired, and had even come into the room and p^>oken to Mi-. Hylton, who answered him, but must have fallen asleep again. There was no help for it. Mr. Hylton was not a man to curse himself, and every body and every thing about him. A misfortune had occurred, which seemed to have been inevitable ; and, in reality, no one soever was to blame. He had nothing for it now but to book a place by a coach starting at seven o'clock that evening, and then h-j betook himself to the nearest church, and attended the servicH there; and again at Westminster Abbey in the afternoon; feel- ing, during the day, no little misgiving concerning the duty at his own church, and whether, alas I there should have been no one found, at such short notice, to do it all. As he went to Westminster, and, also, as he came away after the service, lif failed at the secretary of state's office ; but all there was sileri. NOWANDTHEN. 135 and apparently deserted ; the sentry gravely telling him that no one attended there on Sundays. But it occurred to Mr. Hylton, nevertheless, to knock and inquire ; and it was veiy fortunate that he did, for he found that no less a personage than an under-secretary and several clerks were there, en- gaged on important business connected with apprehended dis- turbances in the north. With no little difficulty Mr. Hylton obtained access to one of the chief clerks, and from him learn- ed that a communication had been received overnight from the chief justice, of his having ordered a fortnight's respit to Adam Ayliffe, under sentence of death for the murder of Lord Alk- mond ; that such order had been forthwith dispatched by special messenger, who would deliver it during the ensuing afternoon into the hand of the proper authority. " But forgive my anxiety in a matter in which I have laketi a deep interest," said Mr. Hylton. " Suppose the messengers should happen' to miscarry 1" " It may, of course, be the worse for the prisoner,'' replied the clerk, somewhat impatiently ; " but suppose the sky were to fall — you know the saying, sir. A special messenger mis- carry, sir !" With such consolation as could be derived from this some- what irritable official, who was not overpleased at his extra day's work at the office, Mr. Hylton departed, without having asked several other questions which had occurred to him, concerning the aid of government in the inquiries which were to be set on foot, as suggested by the lord chief jus- tice. At, seven o'clock precisely Mr. Hylton took his place on the coach, which in due course would bring him to the county town where Ayliffe lay awaiting a fate only, by extraordinary exertions on the part of Mr. Hylton, postponed for a few fleet- ing days ; and he purposed sending on his portmanteau to the inn at Milverstoke, himself staying behind to have an interview at the jail with poor Ayliffe, and possibly his father. As he traveled along, he calmly reviewed the occurrences of the last few days, and, agitating and alarming as they were, really thought that streaks of light were beginning faintly to glisten in the murky horizon, and felt devout thankfulness at the pros- pect of his being permitted to be an humble instrument in the hands of Providence of rescuing an innocent man from an ig- nominious death. What, he began to inquire, would be the 136 NOWANDTIIEN. effect of this respit on the mind and heart of Ayliffe t A« they drew near the county town about ten o'clock in the morn- ing, he began to picture to himself the dismal scene which might, but for his exertions, have met their eyes that morning in passing the jail. As they rolled rapidly onward, he was struck with the numerous foot-passengers whom they met, and in increasing numbers ; and at length — ^how shall it be written 1 — Mr. Hylton almost fell from his seat, for he heard the voice of a person holding a long printed paper in his hand — " Why, sir — Parson Hylton — sir," said the coachman, draw- ing up hurriedly for a moment. " Sir, how's this 1^-they're crying Adam Ayliife's last dying speech and full confession of the murder of Lord Alkmond V And, sure enough, the man near them announced " the last dying speech and confession of Adam Ayliffe, who was hanged this morning for the murder of — " " Let me get down," said Mr. Hylton, faintly, turning deadly pale. " Am I dreaming ? What inscrutable dispensation of Providence is this ? Have, then, the special messengers mis- carried after all ? or has Lord Farnborough thought fit to overrule the chief j ustice ? Oh, horror !" thought he — and all this with lightning rapidity. He staggered toward the man who had the papers in his hand, and found that there was no name of Adam Ayliffe whatever in them, nor had the crier de- liberately falsified the contents of his gloomy documents ; but, having received a number of them to dispose of, and not hav- ing heard of the respit which had arrived for the great and chief criminal, had taken it for granted that he had suffered in due course ; the fact being, that there really had been an exe- cution that morning at the jail, but only of the two men con- victed on the same day as Ayliffe, for stealing the pair of shoes at the fair, and the cheese from the dairy. Poor souls, they had died, it seemed, with great penitence, acknowledging, if not the lenity of the laws, the justice of the sentence under which they sufl'ered ; for, indeed, how could they do otherwise, when the stolen articles had been found in their actual posses- sion ] Their last moments had been, however, a little disturb- ed at the sudden, and, as it seemed to them, unjust escape of their expected fellow-sufferer, the murderer; a complaint, as Mr. Hylton afterward learned from the chaplain, which was one of the very latest among the words spoken by them on earth. N O W A N U T H E N. 1 37 The gallows, having performed its deadly office, was being taken down as Mr. Hylton, with averted eyes and a sickened heart, made his way to the jail through the remains of a far greater crowd than would have been drawn together to witness the exit of the two poor thieves. In answer to his hurried in- quiry how Ayliffe had borne the temporary postponement of his sentence, the turnkey to whom he spoke informed him that the man was pretty well considering, but that there had been a great stir when the news came. Mr. Hylton was immediately introduced to the chaplain in the governor's room, and found, to his great consolation, that the considerate chief justice had caused the respit to be accompanied by an injunction to the authorities to warn the prisoner that the only use which he ought to make of the few days longer allowed to him on earth should be to prepare the better for hereafter. No intimation had reached the prison of the grounds on which the respit had been obtained ; and Mr. Hylton abstained from satisfying the curiosity or anxiety of even the chaplain and governor. With equal discretion he left the prison without having any interview with Ayliffe, to be spared useless pain, and avoid questions causing an agonizing embarrassment. The chaplain had been intrusted with the critical task of communicating to Ayliffe the utterly unexpected result of Mr Hylton's unknown exertions on his behalf, the intelligence ar- riving only a few hours after Ayliffe and the other two capita^ convicts had partaken of the sacrament. He bore the agitating communication in total silence, but shortly afterward became ■wildly excited; in spite of all the exhortations of the chaplain, expressing his conviction that by some providential means his innocence had been discovered ; and it was not till after he had become calmer that the official document was shown him, by which his wretched life was extended to one fortnight lon- ger, and one fortnight only. Shortly afterward he became very desponding; and when his father was admitted to him, wept bitterly, and lamented that his troubles were prolonged, and his peace of mind endangered. The old man had himself been very tenderly dealt with, on being told of the respit by the chaplain, who had already conceived a great respect for him, infinitely heightened by the firmness and composure with which he received the intelligence and conducted himself to- ward his son. With what tempered sternness and affection did he enforce the teaching of the chaplain, and depress the 138 NOWANDTHEN. wild and unwarrantable hopes of him who still hung suspend- ed over the grave, as it were, by only one single hair of his head ! Serious and anxious was the frame of mind with which Mr. Hylton now rode on to Milverstoke. He felt the fearful re- sponsibility which his energetic humanity had entailed upon him, lest he should have really, in the pregnant language of the chief justice, done no more than twice inflict the pangs of death on the convict, and awfully periled his religious condi- tion. He also thought with momentary trepidation of the Earl of Milverstoke, and the effect upon him which the intelligence of the respit might have had ; especially when he should have learned through whose agency it had been brought about ; and moreover, the result of Captain Lutteridge's interview with the earl, Mr. Hylton had yet to learn. On that score, however, his uncertainty, at all events, might soon be relieved, for his way lay within half a mile of the barracks ; to which, accordingly, on arriving at the road leading up to them, he di- rected his horse's head, and rode at a quickened pace. On entering the room in which his interview with the captain had taken place, that ofiicer quickly made his appearance, in full uniform, his men being drawn up, ready for drill, on the ground opposite to the window ; and his manner seemed, to Mr. Hyl- ton, cold and constrained. "Look you, reverend sir," said Captain Lutteridge, closing the mess-room door after him, " I was as good as my word ; went straight to my Lord Milverstoke ; and sorry am I that I thought of going. It has done you no service, sir, and I have greatly angered (about which I care not) and distressed my Lord Milverstoke, for which I do care greatly." " I deeply regret to hear it," replied Mr. Hylton ; " but per- mit me to ask what was the result of your interview] Are you at liberty to tell me what you had thought of?" " No, sir," answered Captain Lutteridge, somewhat peremp- torily. " No !" echoed Mr. Hylton. " Not one word, sir !" Mr. Hylton felt distressed and confounded. Here had broken down, suddenly and altogether, one of the props on which rested the precious but precarious fabric of his hopes for Ayliffe. A miserable beginning was this of his fortnight's exertions ! NOWANDTHEN. 139 " Perhaps, Captain Lutteridge, you have heard of the respit for a few days, which I have succeeded in obtaining ]" " Yes, sir, last night." " I trust, sir, that you heard vrith some satisfaction, the news that a fellow-creature mai/ be spared from suffering un- justly an ignominious death?" " Sir, I say I heard it, and I wish nobody to die unjustly ; but how he can die unjustly, whom the law hath ordered to die, I know not. If this man be hanged when his respit is over, doubtless it will be all right, being according to law. Had I been he, I would rather have had it all over at once, being so near it; now he will die every day till it is over." His words smote the heart of his listener. " For this rea- son, sir, when a court-martial orders sentence of death, we carry it into effect quickly ; the thing is over, forgotten, and the men return to duty." " But suppose the man shot were not really guilty ]" " That," said the captain, dryly, " never occurred in my time." Mr. Hylton sighed ; he saw it was useless to reason with the impracticable soldier, who, moreover, glanced once or twice at his men, through the window, as though he wished to mount his horse immediately. " Pardon me, captain, as I fear to detain you ; but this wretched person's life seems now, in a manner, dependent on niT/ exertions." " Yes, sir, doubtless. But, by the way," added the captain, suddenly, " on what grounds did you get the respit, sir ] Of course you said nothing of the matter on which we spoke here, sir V " Captain Lutteridge," said Mr. Hylton, with dignity, " I am a gentleman, as are you ; and though a Christian minister struggling on behalf of one condemned unjustly to death, I could not break my promise, though, I own, with a conscience disquieting me at the time." " I hope quite unnecessarily," said the captain. "But understand me, sir, when I say this : I must tell you, in candor, but in perfect truth and honor, that, to some extent, I made use of the fact that — " " Hollo ! How, sir ? how's that, sir V interrupted the cap- tain, his whole face suddenly flushed. " Hear me, Captain Lutteridge," said Mr. Hylton, calmly ; 140 NOW AND THEN. " hear what passed between the lord chief justice and myself. I placed my application to him on four distinct grounds ; and one of them, certainly, related to what had passed between " The d it did ! — I beg your pardon, sir, but by ! I can't help it, sii-, though you're a parson ; but — " burst out the captain, who seemed as if he were going into a frenzy. " I say, sir," continued Mr. Hylton, eyeing him with stern steadfastness, " related to what had passed between us ; only glancing, however, at it." " Go on, sir ! Go on, sir ! if you please, that is," said the captain, with ill-suppressed vehemence. "I will, sir, if you interrupt me not," said Mr. Hylton, thoroughly roused, and speaking with a deliberate determina- tion which instantly arrested the captain's impetuosity ; but he walked to and fro hastily, his jack-boots clattering, perhaps a very trifle more than they needed to have done. " I told the judge that some one in court had heard him inquire whether any one could say why Lord Alkmond had quitted the castlo at so late an hour of the night ; had afterward communicated with a person who thought it possible, and only possible, that he might be able to throw some light on the matter, but must first obtain the permission of some one else ; was attempting to do so when I quitted Milverstoke ; and that, till I received expressed permission, I could say no more on the business. I also said that the person who had spoken to me had expressed his opinion that the conversation would prove to have no bear ing on the case." "Yes, yes, I did say tliat — I did, I recollect; but, excuse me, reverend sir," he added, with a somewhat puzzled air, " I did not quite understand all that went before ; 'tis too long; I ask the favor of you to repeat it, sir." Mr. Hylton deliberately repeated what he had said, adding, " but I never made the slightest mention of Lord Milverstoke, nor you, ncrr of any one about you ; nor spoke of any officer being concerned ; nor of this place ; nor of Milverstoke Castlo." " Well, sir," said the captain, apparently relieved, yet evi- dently not perfectly satisfied ; " I suppose that that would not give the lord chief justice any inkling, eh'? These great law- yers can find out so much more in every thing than we can. Eh? how is it]" NOW AND THEN. 14^ " You know, Captain Lutteridge, now, as much as I do ; and let me add, that, in my opinion, this did not form one of the grounds upon which the lord chief justice proceeded in granting the respit ; but he went principally on another very remarkable circumstance, fresh — " " Egad ! so one of our men outside, there, told Lieutenant Wylsden, this morning, that something strange had turned up, What is it 1 if it please you, reverend sir." " Foi-give me, Captain Lutteridge, but at present it would be premature," replied Mr. Hylton, guessing that good Mrs. Hylton must have been talking a little on the subject since his departure. " I have yet to ask did Lord Milverstoke distinct- ly refuse to allow you to tell me that which you went to ask his leave to do V " Sir, I have given you an answer, and can not go further. 1 am not at liberty to do what you ask." " Did his lordship know of the matter, or did you first tell him V " Sir, I shall — that is, sir, I can say nothing more than that not one syllable on this matter get you from me ; and — harke'e, sir," he added, very significantly, " I wish you well out of ask- ing my Lord Milverstoke yourself; but my men, reverend sir, are waiting, and I bid you good-morning." So ended this disheartening interview ; Mr. Hylton re- mounting his horse and quitting the barrack-yard, much more depressed than he had entered it. He was about to turn back to inquire from Captain Lutteridge vi^hether he had told the earl who it was that was going to London on the business of the respit ; but hearing the captain's loud voice giving the word of command, he abstained, and continued his cheerless exit. As he neared the village, he overtook an increasing number of persons, who appeared as if they had walked from some dis- tance. The faces of many of them he knew ; they, saluted him as he quickly passed, with a dash of awe and expectation in their respectful obeisances. He quickened his pace to escape from the gaze of excited scrutiny, and at length increased his speed ; but that only added to the excitement of those who beheld and were overtaken by him ; and by the time that he had reached his own gateway, he was almost hemmed in by an eager crowd, who in a quarter of an hour's time had nearly doubled tteir numbers; so that he was forced to quit 142 NOW AND THEN. the room again, where he had left Mrs. Hylton, no little ex- cited with what was going on ; and approaching his gateway, got on the horse-steps outside it ; and assured the crowd, who instantly uncovered, and became silent, that AylifFe had got a fortnight's, and only a fortnight's, respit, because of some little doubts about his guilt ; and then Mr. Hylton earnestly besought them to go away immediately and peaceably; and he was obeyed within as short a time as could be reasonably ex- pected. But what had been the first thing which occurred to him on entering the parsonage 1 A letter lay on the table, unopened, even by anxiously curious Mrs. Hylton, it having arrived only some quarter of an hour before her husband's return, bearing a great black coroneted seal, and addressed to him in Lord Milvei-stoke's handwriting, with that- fonnidable name at full length in the corner of the letter. Mr. Hylton, with forced calmness, opened it and read as follows : — " Castle, Monday morning, 8 o'clock, a.m. " The Earl of Milverstoke requests" (the word originally written was visibly " desires") " the attendance of Mr. Hylton at the castle, as soon after his arrival from London as pos- sible." Mr. and Mrs. Hylton looked at one another in silence for a few moments, as soon as they had read this ominously laconic summons, the significance of which they had been hurriedly discussing, at the moment of Mr. Hylton's quitting her to dis- miss the little crowd assembled before his door. " I do not perfectly like the peremptory, authoritative tone of this note," said he to Mrs. Hylton ; " but let us not be quick at taking ofiense, when none may be intended. As one of his lordship's occasional chaplains, he has a right to command my services ; but if he consider that, bemg his chaplain, I have no right to rescue one, whom I believe to be an innocent man, from an infamous death, I will, with God's blessing, prove my right, and disprove that which he assumes." " My dear Henry, you will have a terrible scene to en- counter, I see too plainly," said his wife, apprehensively. " Painful, Mary — very, \eTY painful it may be ; but what la to terrify a man supported by a sense of duty, exercising an unquestionable right, and that, too, in so sacred a cause ] My NOW AND THEN. 143 parishioner, Ayliffe, shall not die wrongfully, if I can lift up a finger to prevent it, did I live surrounded by forty Lords Mil- verstoke ! If he be one of the great nobles of the earth, my Mary, think of Him whose servant I am ! whose bidding I do — ay, and will do, though hell itself rise against me ! And in my Master's name, the Lord of lords and King of kings, will I encounter this proud earl, and, it may be, humble hira into sub- mission to the will of God, and make him yield to the dictates of our better nature." " But, I must say, there are great allowances to be made for him," said Mrs. Hylton ; " what would be our feelings if this little girl of ours — our only one — were — were — " " Poor soul !" exclaimed her father, looking tenderly at tho little girl, who was listening absorbedly to this colloquy be- tween her paients ; " dear soul ! I should wish to accompany thee to heaven, however black and horrible might be thy path thither ! And I would pray for grace to forgive her murder- ers ; and if I could not get that grace, then would she be an angel in heaven, and I, her unhappy father, be forever ex- cluded ; this my Master has taught me — this He has expressly told me ! Come hither, my little Mary, and let me feel your arms about me, strengthening me in my religion, for of such as thou art is the kingdom of heaven !" The child sprung into his open arms, and sobbed aloud ; he folded her fondly to his breast, in silence ; and Mrs. Hylton'i tears fell fast. She could have clasped her husband in her arms; for, as he spoke, there beamed upon his harassed fea- tures an expression that was heavenly. For him she enter- tained no fears whatever; she knew his utter devotion to his calling ; his lofty sense of the greatness of his office ; his un- wavering faith ; his indomitable courage. She knew well, also, his discretion — his complete command of temper ; in short, the simplicity and elevation of his whole character. That minister of G-od was indeed a burning and a shining light, which, placed on an eminence, would have scattered far a blessed radiance ; but a Wisdom unquestionable, and by him unquestioned, had placed him not on the mountain, but in the valley — had as- signed him a remote and obscure station in the great vine- yard. But how noble the opportunity of doing good that seemed now afforded him ! Already had he felt stirring within him energies, the existence of which he had known not till they 144 NOW AND THEN. were thus unexpectedly developed; and at the moment of hia thus conversing with Mrs. Hylton, he experienced but one se- rious anxiety — lest the earl, fatally for his own final peace and happiness, should be permitted to harden himself into hopeless inhumanity, and, in the inscrutable wisdom of the great Or derer of all events, succeed in intercepting the flow of mercy — nay, of justice ; and gloat over the sacrifice of one, as guilty, whose innocence he himself vyould, however unconsciously, have prevented from being vindicated. Mr. Hylton knew the substantial nobleness of the earl's character, with all the faults which cast baleful shadows around it ; and those faults were exactly such as might now be expected in full operation — hid- eous serpents writhing around a black pillar of pride. Alas! blind and deadly animosity and revenge would now disguise themselves as retribution and justice ! How were they to be unmasked 1 To Lord Milverstoke's significant summon Depend on't they're always right, or it's no use having judge and jury," observed one of the party. " That which troubles me most in the business," said the doctor, "is what all this has brought on poor old Ayliffe and young Mrs. Ayliffe : better people never lived in this country that ever I heard of; and as for the old man, he's brought up his family past most of us." " Well, no one says he's done any thing wrong, and much is he to be pitied," said Mr. Glynders ; " yet 'tis proved he had a terrible grudge against my lord and his." "What!" said Mr. Wigley, " old^Adam Ayliffe! My life on't, 'tis false !" And all present but Glynders eagerly echoed his words. " Never hurt did Ayliffe to any man, woman, child, ■^jeast, bird, or any living thing." " By the way," sir, interposed Mr. Wigley, addressing the doctor, " how comes on poor Mrs. Ayliffe — is she likely to get over it ?" " No, I fear not ; the labor that she was in, from the sudden fright, brought her direct to the grave's edge, and there she has been ever since : a single puff may blow her in, as it were !" " So be it with the Lady Alkmond at the castle, as I surely hear," said Mr. G-lynders, somewhat sternly. " What can sig- nify Adam Ayliffe's wife to that poor ladyT' " Make not comparisons, Mr. Glynders, I beseech you !" said the doctor, .who had been himself occasionally in attendance on Lady Alkmond, in addition to two physicians, one of them of great eminence from London, and another from the neighboring town, and the resident family, physician. " Surely God hat^ afflicted both, and the one is as innocent, and as much to be pitied, sure, as the other." " What ! where the one's husband — bless the poor lady — i died unjustly, and the other's will die justly ?" 162 NOW AND THEN. Here was a pause. " I wonder what rny Lord Milverstoke says to all this !" ex- claimed one ; and added, addressing Mr. Glynders, " What say you, Mr. Glynders — we should like to hear V " I never mention what happens at the castle," he replied, very impressively. " But thus much I may say — his lordship desires only the thing that is right to be done, which is, that this man, Ayliffe, should suffer !" " 'Tis a dreadful thing to hear one's self told, with one's own ear, that one's body's to be dissected and anatomized !" said one ; and there was a perceptible shudder throughout the room. " I hope it won't come to that," said the doctor, mildly ; " but if the thing is to be, why, I must say," — he paused suddenly, and added, in a different voice — "it surely does not signify much — does it 1 — what is to become of the shell, if the kernel's safe : and I think I know," he continued, dropping his voice to a lower tone, " those who will have the anatomizing of poor Ayliffe ! for what must be, must be, and there's no use mincing things, is there ?" he asked, looking round with a melancholy shake of the head ; but every face looked blank ; no one an- swered, for before the disturbed mind's eye of each, arose the dismal object of a skeleton — the skeleton of one whom all of them had familiarly known foT years as a man frank, good-na- tured, high-spirited, ready to oblige every body, of spotless character till this questionable charge, and who, while they were talking, lay; as it were, alive in death — his manly limbs heavily ironed, his heart broken. " There's a deal of work to be done this next few days by those who have got this respit, isn't there 1" said one. " It will all come to nothing, you'll see, this that was heard of, about a man seen running away. I suppose it's that which gained the respit ; but those must be sharp who have the catch- ing of that same man during the fortnight. I should like to know what said the king on the subject, when Mr. Hylton saw his majesty ?" He never saw the king — not he," said Mr. Glynders, some- what sneeringly. " Didn't he.'" echoed Mr. "Wigley, confidently, and somewhat peremptorily; for he being church- warden, and in frequent communication with Mr. Hylton on parish business, and indeed on many other matters, felt that he had a right to appear better NOWANDTHEN. * 1G£ informed than others of his movements ; and the grander they appeared, the more elevating, of course, to Mr. Wigley. His significant "Didn't he!" seemed conclusive; and after some other conversation of a general nature, the party was about to break up, when the landlord announced that Mr. Hylton had just called, on horseback, as he passed, to ask if Mr. Wigley were there ; and on learning that he was, had ridden on, leav- ing word for him to come at once to the parsonage, as Mr. Hylton had something to say to him. Mr. "Wigley looked important, yet changed color a little; and all present silently gave him credit for being as high in the counsels of the vicar as he had been intimating. And, to be sure, very shortly afterward, Mr. Hylton, all fatigued and de- pressed in body and mind as he was, gave Mr. Wigley half an hour's audience, and then put him upon making many inquiries early in the ensuing day, into a point connected with the great murder case, which Mr. Wigley inwardly wondered had never before happened to occur to any of the very astute party at the Blind Hound. His ears also tingled a little at a chance word falling frpm Mr. Hylton, which dissipated into thin air the no- tion of his having seen the king on the matter; but that, good Mr. Wigley perhaps justly deemed unnecessary to be again alluded to elsewhere ; and besides, seeing the king's minister personally was, after all, exceedingly like seeing the king himself. 164 NOW AND THEN. CHAPTER V. The first thing that Mr. Hylton did in the morning was to at tempt to follow up the inquiries suggested by the mysterious letter from the mate of the Morning Star, taking such means as occurred to him to ascertain whether any one living near the sea-shore had noticed any thing unusual on the eventful night in question, or any thing which, when,_5;jOriginally observed, might have appeared unimportant, yet, when now minutely in- quired into, might become of pregnant significance. Then his thoughts directed themselves, in his dire dilemma and perplex- ity, toward a question which he dared hardly even propose to himself: Could any one have had any imaginable motive for killing Lord Alkmond? Scarcely venturing to follow up the shadowy possibility, yet led on irresistibly by the vague and mysterious character of what might have taken place at, or im- mediately after, the banquet on that fatal evening, he thought within himself, as he stood in his little library, "Had the un- faitunate young nobleman, in an unguarded and guilty hour, yielded to headlong passions, and lit up in the hearts of others the fires of intense and unappeasable malignity and revenge? But, indeed, how could that degrading suspicion be entei'tained in the case of a young nobleman, situated as he was — more es- pecially at that particular period — coming down at a season of exulting family festivity, accompanied by his beautiful viscount- ess, and his cherished little son and heir 1 Had, nevertheless — " for Mr. Hyltdn felt such an awful sense of responsibility upon him as compelled him to do with his might what his hand had undertaken to do ; and to let no false delicacy, no improbability even, however glcuring at first sight, prevent him from exhaust- ing every possible supposition — " had Lord Alkmond so far for- gotten himsel|", in a moment of licentiousness, in a temporary God-forgetting recklessness, as to incur the blasting guilt of ru- ining female virtue, and turning into fiends some interested in protecting or avenging it 1 If not at or near Milverstoke, had NOWANDTHEN. 165 Buch miserable occuirence happened elsewhere ; and had the blood-thirsty avenger .tracked his unsuspecting steps and lain in wait for him t Why was L ord Alkmond at all in the woods at such an hour on such an occasion ? Had he gone by appoint- ment 1 or impelled by what some call fatality ]" Mr. Hylton almost started in trepidation at the possibilities which he was conjuring up around him, the fearful figures with which he was peopling his disturbed and morbidly-active fancy. For that something had occuiTed, and of a very peculiar nature, was ev- ident from what little had dropped from Captain Lutteridge and the earl himself; the latter being, and, indeed, having own- ed himself greatly distressed and agitated about the matter, and having peremptorily forbidden both .Captain Lutteridge and Mr. Hylton to utter a syllable about it to any one. " But let me not," suddenly said Mr. Hylton, almost aloud, "let me not wrong the noble and innocent dead, in order to protect even the wronged, and innocent, and mortally-endan- gered living ! To the winds with such injurious and cruel sus- picions !" Yet, struggle as he might, he could not quit the dis- mally-exciting train of thought into which he had seemed forced, and his speculations received a fresh impetus on its suddenly occurring to him that he had heard of the young lord's having been for some time, shortly previous to the fatal occurrence, in low. and "troubled spirits ; and Captain Lutteridge had distinct- ly told him that whatever was the subject which had been in- troduced into the conversation, it had suddenly disturbed Lord Alkmond to a pitch that was absolutely intolerable, and he had been, apparently, incapacitated from presenting himself, at least till after some intended interval for r^overing his spirits, in the ball-room. Into the woods he had gone, and to a very consid erable distance from the castle, and long he could not have been absent before being murdered by the hand of most frightfully ferocious violence. Had that blow been struck by the persons who were represented as having been seen running along the shore] And had they intended to slay Lord Alkmond] or had they mistaken hirn for some other person ? If so, for whom 1 Had his lordship unexpectedly encountered poachers, and, ow- ing to his dress, in the gloora of the night, been confounded with some obnoxious keeper] Or had he, with the spirit of a soldier, endeavored to resist and capture, and been suddenly felled to the earth by some one behind ] Or — ^horrid thought, haunting Mr. Hylton in spite of all that had occurred in the 1H6 NOW AND THEN. condemned cell — had, as suggested by the lord chief justice, the blow been really struck by Ayliffe, under the belief that he was inflicting it on Hundle, the perfidious informer against him ? Or was it possible that Lord Alkmond had gone out into the wood by appointment 1 a supposition that^ seemed to the last degree improbable. With whom 1 For what 1 And at such an hour, and on such an occasion 1 If Ayliffe had gone into the wood in the way which he had represented, how knew he that Hundle would be there ] And had Hundle been there that night? After being long tormented by these and many other perplexing conjectures, Mr. Hylton suddenly asked him- self .the question, whether, if, at the fortnight's end, the case stood as it did at that moment, he could then offer any valid reason whatever why the sentence of the law should not be carried into effect 1 For what would there in such case be to extricate Ayliffe from the rational presumption arising out of his appalling proximity to the deed, in point of both time and place, as established to demonstration, but his own unsupported assertions 1 "Would there be really doubt enough to wairant a further suspension of the sentence 1 He sighed, and inwardly answered in the negative. Had he, then, been guilty of pre- cipitation 1 For surely very guilty would be such precipita- tion : and of that guilt all would convict him, however unjustly, by the adverse issue of his exertions. Alas ! if he had nourish- ed hopes but to be blighted ! How heavy and thankless his re- sponsibility ! Accused on every side ; by the prisoner, and all who pitied and wished him well; by Lord Milverstoke, and those interested in the prosecution ; by the public, roused on behalf of justice ! < Greatly disturbed was he by these doubts and fears ; yet he felt consoled by the conscious purity of his motives, his utter disinterestedness. Nay, was he not* acting directly against his own worldly interests in thus making a mortal enemy of the Earl of Milverstoke ] This last, however, was a consideration which gave him not an instant's concern. And for the rest, he had from the first besought, and continued faithfully to seek, the aid of Heaven, and its guidance in all his doings ; where- fore he felt a supporting consciousness of being engaged upon his duty, resolved to shrink from no suffering or sacrifice, wheth- er foreseen or not, to leave no effort untried : to worh wMle it was day ; for the night cometh wherein no man might worh. He felt an almost insuperable repugnance to visiting poor NOW AND THEN. 161 Ayliflfe during the pendency of these critical proceedings. Wha( questions might he not askt questioils, the not answering of which might prove as fatally delusive as the answering disin- genuously ; and as to equivocation of any sort, under any cir- cumstances, it was a thing impossible to Mr. Hylton — least of all as a minister of religion, and toward a death-doomed fellow- creature. Arid with reference to Mr. Hylton's present object, what useful information, as the case then stood, had he to ex- pect from AylifFe'? There seemed but one subject on which Mr. Hylton could, with any advantage, question him : and yet, when considered, how ineffectually, whatever might be the an- swer! and that Was concerning the reason v/hich Ayliffe had had for expecting to meet with Handle in the Wood on the par- ticular night when he went thither. But, as" the case stood, what signified that reason, however satisfactory and conclusive ; except, indeed, as tending to negative the notion that he had gone thither with any feelings of hostility toward Lord Alk- mond, whom, nevertheless, he might have mistaken for the ob- ject of his own particular vengeance. But Mr. Hylton received one brief message from the unhappy occupant of the condemn- ed cell which no man, least of all such a one as Mr. Hylton, could disregard: "I go back into darkness while you -are, away !" " • -tr On this, " Poor soul !" said Mr. Hylton, ordering his horse, " I will quickly be with thee !" As he rode along, his mind lost sight almost entirely of the temporal in the spiritual, the present in the future, interests of the condemned, and by the time that he had reached the jail, his mind was in an elevated frame, befitting the solemn and sublime considerations with which it had been engaged. A turnkey, with loaded blunderbuss on his arm, leaned against the cell door, which he opened for Mr. Hylton in silence, as he approached, disclosing poor Ayliffe sitting on his bench, doub- le-ironed, his head buried in his hands, his elbows supported by his knees. He did not move on the entrance of Mr. Hylton, as his name had not been mentioned by the turnkey. " Adam ! Adam ! the Lord be with you ! Amen !" exclaimed Mr. Hylton, gently taking in his hand one of the prisoner's. Ayliffe suddenly started up, a gaunt figure, rattling in his irons ; and grasping, in both his ' hands, that of Mr. Hylton, carried it to his heart, to which he pressed it for some moments in silence, and then, bursting into tears, sunk again on his bench. 168 NOWANDTHEN. " God bless you, Adam ! and lift up the light of His counte- nance upon you ! Put your trust in him ; but remember that he is the All-Seeing, the Omniscient, Omnipotent God, who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity !" Ayliffe wept in silence, and with reverent affection of man- ner pressed to his lips the still retained hand of Mr. Hylton. " Come, Adam ! speak ! Speak to your pastor — your friend — your minister !" " You seem an angel, sir !" said Ayliffe, looking at him with a dull, oppress'ed eye, that was heart-breaking. "Why an angel, Adam? I bring you," said Mr. Hylton, shaking his head, and sighing, " no earthly good news whatev- er ; nothing but my unworthy offices to prepare you for here- after ! Prepare ! prepare to meet thy God, for he draweth near ! And who may abide the day of his coming !" " I was readier for my change when last I saw you, sir-, than now," said Ayliffe, with a suppressed groan, covering his face with his manacled hands. " How is that, poor Adam V " Ah ! I was, so it seemed, half over Jordan, and have been dragged back. I see not now that other bright shore which ade me forget earth ! All now is dark !" His words smote Mr. Hylton to the heart. " Why is this 1 Why should it be ] Adam !" said he, very earnestly, " have you ever been, can you possibly ever be, out of God's hands 1 What happens but from God 1 And if He hath prolonged this your bitter, bitter trial, what should you, what can you do but submit to his infinite power and goodness 1 He doth not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of men, to crush under his feet all the prisoners of the earth ! He will not cast off forever ; hut though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies .'" " Oh, sir ! oft do I think his mercy is clean gone forever ! Why — why am I here V he continued, with sudden vehemence. " He knoweth my innocence, yet will make me die the death of the guilty ! That can not, can not be just !" " Adam ! Adam ! Satan is indeed besieging you ! Even if, in the inscrutable decrees of Providence, you be ordained to die for what you did not, have you forgotten that sublime and avyful truth and fact on which hang all your hopes — the death of Him who died, the just for the unjust ?" Ayliffe's head sunk down on his knees. # N O W A N D T II E N. 1 ..'J " Ah, sir !" said he, tremulously, after a while, duiing which Mr. Hylton interfered not with his meditations, " these words do drive me into the dust, and then raise me again higher than I was before !" " And so they ought, Adam. Is there a God ■? Has he really revealed himself? Are the Scriptures true t Am I the true servant of a true master 1 If to all this you say yea, speak not again distrustfully. If you do — if you so think — then are you, too, like to be beyond the pale of mercy. I am free, Adam — you are bound — yet are both our lives every instant at the com- mand and absolute disposal of Him who gave them, that we might be on trial here for a little while. For aught I know, I may even yet die before you, a,nd with greater pain and grief; but both of us must die, and much of my life is gone forever. As your frail fellow-mortal, then, I beseech you to listen to me ! Our mode of leaving life is ordered by God, even as our mode of living in it. To some he hath ordained riches, others pov- erty ; some pleasure, others misery in this life ; but all for rea- sons, and with objects best known, nay, knowm only to Himself! Adam, you have now been four days here beyond that which had been appointed you — now that we are alone, have you aught to confide to me, as the minister for whom you have sent 1 What saith my Master 1 If you confess your sins, he is faith- ful and just to forgive you ; but if you say that you have no sin, you deceive yourself, and the truth is not in you. And if that last be so, Adam, what shall be said of you, what can be hoped for you V " If you be thinking of that deed for which I am condemned," said Ayliffe, with a suddenly radiant countenance, " then am I easy and happy. God, my Maker, and who will be my Judge, knoweth whether I speak the truth. Ay ! ay ! innocent am 1 of this deed as you !" " It is right, Adam, that I should tell you that all mankind who know of your case, from the highest even down to the low- est, do believe you guilty." " Ah, sir, is not that hard to bear 1" said Ayliffe, with a griev- oas sigh, and a countenance that looked unutterable things. "It is, Adam — it is hard; yet, were it harder, it must be borne. Here is Lord Milverstoke, who hath lost his son — his only son — the heir to his title and his vast possessions — ^lost him in this mysterious and horrid way : is not that hard to be borne ? Have you, Adam — I ask you by your precious hopes of here. H 170 NOW AND THKN. after — animosity toward him, who believes you to be his son's murderer?" There was an awful silence for nearly a minute, at the close of which, AylifTe, with an anguished face, said, " Oh, sir ! give me time to answer you ! Pray for me ! I know whose example I ought to imitate ; but — " he suddenly seemed to have sunk into a reverie, which lasted for some time ; at the end of which, " Sir — Mr. Hylton," said he, desperately, " am I truly to die on Monday week ? Oh, tell me ! tell me, sir ! Life is sweet, I own !" He sprung toward Mr. Hylton, and convulsively grasped his hands, looking into his face with frenzied earnestness. " I can not, I will not deceive you, Adam," replied Mr. Hyl- ton, looking aside, and with a profound sigh. " My duty is to prepare you for death ! But — " " Ah !" said he, with a desperate air, " to be hanged like a vile dog ! and every one cursing me, who am all the while in- nocent ! and no burial service to be said over my poor body ! never — never to be buried !" With a dismal groan he sunk back, and would have fallen from the bench, but for Mr. Hyl- ton's stepping forward. "Sir, sir," said Ayliffe presently, glar- ing with sudden wildness at Mr. Hylton, " did you see the man at the door with the blunderbuss % There he stands ! all day ! all night ! but never comes in ! never speaks ! Would that he would put it to my head and finish me in a moment !" " Adam ! Adam ! what awful language is this that I hear V said Mr. Hylton, sternly. " Is this the way that you have spoken to your pious and venerable father V " No ! no ! no ! sir !" — he pressed his hand to his forehead — " but my poor head wanders ! I — I am better now! I seem just to have come out of a dream. But never should I dream thus, if you would stay with me — till — all is over!" Feeling it quite impossible to ask the miserable convict such questions as he had wished, Mr. Hylton resolved not to make the attempt, but to do it as prudently ^nd as early as might be, through old Ayliffe, or the chaplain or the governor of the jail. He was just about to leave, and was considering in what terms he could the most effectually address himself to Ayliffe, when, without any summons having issued fiom within, the door was unlocked, and the turnkey, thrusting in his head, said, " I say, my man, here's the woman come with thy child, that fbou'st been asking for. They'll come in when the gentleman NOW AND THEN. 17] Ayliffe started up from his seat with an eager motion toward the door, but was suddenly jerked down again, having forgotten in his momentary ecstasy that his irons were attached to a staple in the floor. " Come, come, my man," said the turnkey, sternly, " thou must be a bit quieter, I can tell thee, if this child is to come to thee." " Give me the lad ! give me the lad ! give me the lad !" said Ayliffe, in a hoarse whisper, his eyes straining toward the ap- proaching figure of the good woman, who, with a very sorrowful and apprehensive look, now came in sight of the condemned man. " Lord bless thee, Adam Ayliffe !" she began, bursting into tears, " Lord love thee and protect thee, Adam !" " Give me the lad ! show me the lad !" he continued, gazing intently at her, while she tremblingly pushed aside her cloak, and, behold, there lay, simply and decently clad, his little boy, awake, and gazing, apparently apprehensively, at the strange, wild figure whose arms were extended to I'eceive it. " Adam, father of this thy dear child," said Mr. Hylton, inter- posing for a moment between Ayliffe and the child, not without some alarm, " wilt thou handle it tenderly, remembering how feeble and small it is V On this, poor Ayliffe gazed at Mr. Hylton with a face of un- speakable agony, weeping lamentably ; and still extending his arms, the passive child, gazing at him in timid silence, was placed within them. He sat down gently, gazing at his child for some moments, with a face never to be forgotten by those who saw it. Then he brought it near to his face, and kissed in- cessantly, but with unspeakable tenderness, its tiny featuref which were quickly bedewed with his tears. " His mother ! his mother ! his mother !" he exclaimed, in heart-rending tones, still gazing intently at its face, which was directed toward his own with evident apprehension. Its little hand for a moment clasped one of the irons that bound its father, but removed it immediately, probably fi:om the coldness of the metal. The father saw this, and seemed dreadfully agitated for some moments; and Mr. Hylton, who also had observed the little circumstance, was greatly affected, and turned aside his head. After a while, " How easily, my little lad, could I dash out thy brainsagainst these irons," said Ayliffe, in a low, desperate tolie of voice, staring into the child's face, " and save thee from ever coming to this unjust fate that thy father hath !" 172 NOWANDTHEN. Mr. Hylton was excessively alarmed, but concealed his feel- ings, preparing, nevertheless, for some perilous and insane ac- tion endangering the safety of the child. The gathering cloud, however, passed away, and the manacled father kissed his un- conscious child with all his former tenderness. " They'll tell thee, poor lad, that I was a murderer ! though it be false as hell ! They'll shout after thee, ' There goes the murderer's son !' " He paused, and then, with a sudden start, said, " There will be no grave for thee or thy mother to come and cry over !" " Adam," said Mr. Hylton, very anxiously, " weary not thy- self thus, alarm not this poor child, by thus yielding to fear and despair; but rather, if it can hereafter remember what pasaeth here this day, may its thoughts be of thy love and of thy gentle- ness ! If it be the will of God that thou must die, and that un- justly, as far as men are concerned. He will watch over and provide for this little soul, whom He, foreseeing its fate, sent into the world." AylifTe lifted the child with trembling arms, and pressed its cheeks to his lips. The little creature did not cry, nor appear likely to do so, but seemed the image of mute apprehension. The whole scene was so painful, that Mr. Hylton was not sorry when the governor of the jail approached, to intimate that the interview must cease. The prisoner, exhausted with violent excitement, quietly surrendered his child to his attendant, and then silently grasped the hand of Mr. Hylton, who thereupon quitted the cell, the door of which was immediately locked upon its miserable occupant, who was once again alone ! The inquiries which Mr. Hylton had caused to be set on foot with reference to Hundle proved to be utterly unproductive. What, indeed, had been the precise object which Mr. Hylton had proposed to himself in making them, beyond partially cor- roborating the statements made by AylifTe himself at the trial, and whenever he had been interrogated on the subject, that he really had had reason to believe that Hundle was to be in the woods on the evening when Ayliffe had gone to lie in wait for him 1 When questioned on the subject, he said that he had as- certained the intended visit of Hundle, by happening to over- hear a conversation between him and another, both of whom had agreed to be in the wood in quest of game, as Ayliffe understood, on the memorable evening in question; and it had, unhappily, occurred to Ayliffe that this would afford him a fitting oppor- NOW AND THEN. 173 tunity, not only of severely chastising Hundle, but of subjecting him to the severe penalties of the law against poaching, by de- tecting and capturing him in the very act. Mr. Hylton secretly hoped that Hundle mJght have absconded in consequence of Ayliffe's statements at the trial ; but w^hen Mr. Wigley rode over to the village where the man resided, for the purpose of making the desired inquiries concerning hifti, he was found en- gaged in his ordinary employment of a farmer's day-laborer, one which it seemed that he had never suspended since the dis- astrous occurrence which had led to the inquiry. He totally de- nied, and with an astonished air which impressed his interroga- tor, that he had ever made any such arrangement fbr going to the wood as had been alleged by Ayliffe, or that he had ever dreamed of doing so ; and that he was at his own cottage during the whole of the evening in question, as his mother also emphat- ically affirmed. He adniitted that he had acted a shabby and cruel part toward Ayliffe about the hare, but pleaded the dis- tress of himself and his mother ; and, when asked how he could have supposed that one in such circumstances as those of Ayliffe could possibly pay any portion of the expected fine, said that he had heard of Ayliffe's having high friends, who would not see him in trouble for a pound or two ; and mentioned the Vicar of Milverstoke as the chief of such friends, having heard Ayliffe himself speak of that reverend gentleman in terms of impassion- ed gratitude and respect. Hundle offered to be confronted with Ayliffe at any moment on the subject in question, and voluntarily accompanied Mr. Wigley to the person whom Ayliffe alleged to have concurred with him in his projected expedition ; but the man had some ten days before, it seemed, gone to another part of the country. The only practical result, then, of these in- quiries was, so far from being in any degree corroborative of Ayliffe's statement, to give it a flat contradiction ; which un- speakably disheartened and distressed Mr. Hylton, tending to paralyze his" humane exertions — nay, even to shake his confi- dence in Ayliffe's truthfulness and innocence. The day after that on which Mr. Hylton had received this in- formation, he resolved to see Ayliffe, and probe his conscience on the subject. Two little incidents occurred to him, on his melancholy ride from Milvei'stoke to the jail, which, though in- significant in themselves, yet made a lasting impression upon him. As he passed the cottage in which poor Ayliffe's child was living, he dismounted, in order to make his usual weekly 174 AOVVANDTHEN. payment out of Lady Emily's bounty; and, on enteiiig, fotmd his good wife, Mrs. Hylton, there, accompanied by i-is litile daugliter. As her father entered, she was in the act of putting, with childish excitement of manner, a small silver token into the hand of the child, who, though incapable of appreciating the ^ift, yet smiled upon the little giver with what appeared to Mr. Hylton to be an expression of ineffable sweetness. " And this is the child of the reputed murderer of Lord Alkmond !" thought he ; and a tear came into his eyes, and he sighed deeply. As he rode along, that child's countenance accompanied him, plead- ing hard in favor of its most miserable parent ! When he had gone about two thirds on his way, he saw at a distance the figure of a man sitting on a mile-stone, just under a tree ; and who should this prove to bo but old Ayliffe, on his knees resting his large brass-edged Bible. The old man was not, for some time, aware of Mr. Hylton's approach ; the wind (which was very bitter) coming from an opposite direction, and Ayliffe sitting in a sad and thoughtful attitude, with his eyes bent upon the ground. Mr. Hylton stopped for some moments to look at him ; much moved, and even startled by the coinci- dence which had happened : that he, going to see the death- doomed son, in whom his confidence, till then so firm, was beginning to be shaken, should have encountered both son and father, each under circumstances so touching and unlooked-for. Mr. Hylton had come up with Ayliffe before the latter seemed aware of his approach ; and, to his arrested eye, the old man's countenance seemed invested with an aspect of grandeur. There might be seen in it gloom and grief; a certain stern composure and dignity speaking of Nature's own nobility. And he had, withal, an appearance so utterly poverty-stricken ! And his features were so pallid and wasted ! He had walked upward of five miles from his cottage to the jail, and his wearied limbs required the rest which he was taking; the book which he carried being also somewhat weighty for an old man to carry so far. He was bringing, he said, in answer to Mr. Hylton's inquiries, his own Bible to read out of it to his son, at his own earnest re- quest, and to leave it with him constantly during the few remain- ing days of his life : " There is no difference in Bibles, sir," said the old man, with sorrowful deliberation of manner, " so each be the pure book of God ; that I do well know ; but this one will my poor son weep precious tears to see ; and I shall vtreep grievously over it after he is gone !" N O W A N D T H E N. I t ^1 " My excellent, my pious friend," said Mr. Hylton, " I go this day again to see your son ; but wdth vei-y heavy heart. How fast is wearing away his time ! and j et I make no advance to- ward his rescue or pardon! No, not a step! And assuredly I do believe that he will die on the day now appointed by the law." " The will of God be done, sir!" exclaimed AylifFe, taking off his hat as he spoke, and looking reverently upward with an eye of. awful expression. " I grieve to say, Adam, that I can do nothing with my Lord Milverstoke in the way of getting him to say that he doubts, be it never so little ; or of prevailing on him to recommend to mercy !" The old m.an covered his eyes with his hand, and shook his head sadly. After a long pause, " Sir," said he, speaking in a low, broken tone of voice, "he was a father, as i/et I am. Some little while ago he thought as little to lose his only son as did I to have mine taken from me, as he will be a few days hence. Yet who hath done both these things but Almighty God, whose creatures we all are I And if his lordship does verily believe that my son slew his, who shall wonder if he think it right that my poor son shall die according to the law 1 But, as for me, my days are now few and bitter ; and this is like to close them somewhat sooner than they would have been. Yet have I not read this book which I have here in vain ; and I bear malice to no man. Alas ! my poor son's own sin first led him into the way that brought him down into this horrible pit ; and God is just, His doings are never to be questioned; and if the punish- ment seem to us beyond the sin, that matter leave I humbly to God, who will one day make plain what He hath done, and why. And often think I what may be said for God's reasons in permitting this young noble to be slain, whom, verily, I believe" — here he took off his hat again — " my poor son slew not ! Soon, sir, to all appearance, must they meet face to face, and in the presence of God ; and for such meeting do I daily strive to pre pare my son !" All this was said, with some few intervals of silence, uninter- rupted by Mr. Hylton, who listened to the speaker, and gazed at him, with thrilling and awe-subduing thoughts. " This man," said he to himself, " has not read that book in vain ! And oh ! that I, with all mankind, might so read it !" On his return to the parsonage that evening, after a brief but affecting interview with the prisoner, who, with unvarying and 176 NOWANDTHEN. calm consistency, reasserted the truth of his statement concern- ing Hundle, and evinced a sensible improvement in the tone oi his feelings, as his hopes diminished, his resignation increasing, he found Mr. Melcombe impatiently awaiting his arrival with in- telligence of a sufficiently exciting character, which had come from London by that afternoon's coach, in a letter from Mr. Melcombe's agent. The latter gentleman was a skillful and experienced man ; and instantly, on receiving Mr. Melcombe's instructions, in a case so calculated to excite his interest and stimulate his energies, had taken the best practicable means of becoming acquainted with the arrival at London, or any other port, of the " Morning Star." But, above all, he stationed a clerk of tact and vigilance near the Commodore Anson Tavern, at Wapping, with instructions to discover and announce the ar- rival there of John Jevons, or any other person belonging to the "Morning Star." The merchant to whom that vessel be- longed had been discovered by Mr. Melcombe without difficulty, through information afforded by Mr. Merton ; and from such owner had been ascertained, beyond a doubt, the following highly satisfactory and apparently important information : That the " Morning Star" must, on the day in question, have been passing that part nf the coast where Milverstoke Castle was situated, the vessel having quitted the port to which she be- longed on that morning, and with a fair, though intermitting wind ; that John Jevons was the mate of the vessel ; that there was on board a sailor named Harrup ; that the place usually frequented by the sailors in London was the Commodore An- son ; and that the destination of the vessel had been that which the letter specified. Why, however, the vessel had lain to when opposite Milverstoke Castle, except it had been becalm- ed ; and why, moreover, the boat with Harrup in it had gone ashore, or whether, indeed, such a fact had happened at all, the owner knew not ; but aware of the cause of the inquiries which were being made on the subject, he had promised to afford every information in his power, and at the earliest moment. Now the letter which Mr. Melcombe had brought from London was from his agent, announcing the arrival, on the preceding evening, of the "Morning Star;" the discovery, late on the same night, at the Commodore Anson, of Jevons, the mate ; and that the writer had obtained an appointment from tlie secretary of state, at his office, for the ensuing morning, when he would be in attendance with Jevons and Harrup ! NOWANDTHEN. 177 Mr. Hylton was so overjoyed and excited by this bright gleam of sunshine (for such he esteemed it), that Mr. Melcombe was forced to remind him of the slight importance which, after all, might be attached to these circumstances by the high au- thorities in whose hands lay the fate of the prisoner. Mr. Mel- combe was not so sanguine a man as Mr. Hylton, and better acquainted with the practical administration of justice ; and when, by means of what he said, there appeared before Mr. Hylton's mind's eye, as it were, a pair of scales, in one of which were the proved and admitted facts of the case, and in the other was this mere possibility and ground for conjecture, the latter scale seemed, alEis ! instantly to kick the beam. Had there been time, Mr. Hylton would have started for London to be present at the all-important interview. That, however, be- ing impracticable, he was obliged to wait for information by due course of post ; and, to be sure, on the morning but one after the receipt of the above intelligence, Mr. Hylton rode over to Mr. Melcombe's office, and read with him the following deeply interesting letter from his London agent, Mr. Burnley : " In the matter of Adam Ayliffe, Junior " Pomegranate Court, Temple, 7th April. " Dear Sir, " I have just come from the secretary of state's, where we have had an interview of considerable length, but not (I regret to say) of so satisfactory a character, as far, that is, as concerns the prisoner's interests, as could have been desired. His lord- ship is a man of few words, but those prodigiously to the point, and he showed himself perfectly acquainted with the whole facts and bearings of the case ; which, considering the present troubled state of affairs aiid the anxiety they occasion, is great- ly to be praised. Mr. Under Secretary was present, and also paid great attention, and asked several close questions. The two men, Jevons and Harrup (who were had in separately), behaved very properly, though somewhat flustered at first ; but Jevons, on seeing the letter, said at once it was his, and ex- plained why he wrote it ; and Harrup said just what it was to be expected, from the letter, that he could say, namely, that there were two men running along the shore, near the water's edge ; thought that one ran faster than the other ; could not tell what sort of clothes they wore, nor whether they carried any thing with them ; and on seeing them, and hearing shots above )78 NOWANDTHEN. in the wood, and thinking them poachers, lay on his oars for a moment, and sung out, 'Halloo, my hearties I' When he had said the substance of all this, my lord asked him the following few, but pertinent questions : ' Do you know Adam AylifFe, or any of his family or friends ]' The man said that he had nevei even heard of the name, nor ever been at Milverstoke since he was a boy. ' How soon after your return to the vessel did you mention this circumstance to the mate, or to any one else V He answered, directly that he had got on deck, when he said, ' There's been sport going on in yon woods.' ' Why had you been ashore V He said to try to get some carpenter's tools, having left some of their own behind them at port. ' How long had you left the shore when you saw the men running?' ' About a quarter of an hour.' ' In what direction were they running?' ' Easterly ; toward the east.' ' Would that be as if they were going away from, or toward, the wood V ' Going away from it.' ' Does the wood come close dovni to the shore, or are there cliffs?' The man could not say; but Mr. Under Secretary said he knew the place himself well, and whispered something to his lordship which I could not hear. ' Did you see any coast-guard station, or any of the coast-guard V ' No.' ' Did the man who ran appear to be tall or short V He had not taken sufficient notice, and it was almost too dark to do so. ' Did you think any thing more about this matter after men- tioning it to the mate ?' No ; nor till he afterward heard it talked of. ' When was that V When they were at Dunkirk. ' Who mentioned it, and why V The captain brought a news- paper on board, and spoke to the mate, and they both looked at the log-book, and called down Harrup, and reminded him of it. ' Who first told you of the matter when you came back tu London V Then he mentioned my clerk, as I explained to his lordship. ' Was it before or after the firing of the gun that you saw the man running V He thought it was within a very few minutes after. ' How many minutes, do you believe V Per- haps four or five ; but it might be less. ' Did you hear a gun fired more than once V He thought twice, but it might have been even three times. ' What hour of the night might this have been, as nearly as you can recollect V ' About ten o'clock.' ' Has there been any reward offered by Lord Mil- verstoke or the magistrates for the discovery of any one con- nected with the transaction ?' asked his lordship of me ; and I answered, ' No.' Then Harrup was ordered to withdraw. Be- NOW AND THKN. 179 fore Jevons was brought in, his lordship asked me very partic- ularly what inquiries we had made at Milverstoke, to ascertain whether any one near the sea-shore had observed persons run- ning on the occasion in question. I told him what we had done, reading him your last letter to me, announcing that you could learn nothing on the subject. When Jevons was called in, he gave, as I have already said, a clear and plain account of how he came to write the letter, disclaimed all knowledge of the AylifFes, and knew but little of Milverstoke. Neither he nor any one on board had heard the sound of gun-shot from shore. His lordship asked, very quietly, two or three acute questions, designed to detect any material difference between the accounts of those parts of the transaction which both must have observed; but I never heard any person answer more satisfactorily ; it could have left no doubt in any one's mind that, whatever the value or effect of the evidence, it was given truly and bond fiie. Then Jervons was ordered to withdraw, and, after a few moments' silence, his lordship said, addressing Mr. Under Secretary and me, ' All that we have just heard might, had it then been known, possibly have been fit to lay before the jury; but they might have deemed it immaterial or irrelevant, or as showing only that possibly others were con- cerned with the prisoner in the murder — they escaping, and he happening to be detected ; his guilt being, of course, in either case the same. But the persons represented as running along the shore may have had nothing whatever to do with the mur- der, nor known any thing about it. What a slight foundation,' these wore his lordship's words, ' for so large a superstructure ! The lord chief justice, however, will be seen, and shown the notes of what has taken place this morning (a clerk had set dovra every thing as it went on), and, in the mean lime, those two persons who have been here to-day should be forthcoming, if required. I think it right to intimate to you,' said his lord- ship to me, ' for communication to the prisoner's friends, that, as I am at present advised, I see no grounds for delaying, be- yond the period now fixed, the carrying into effect the sentence of the law. I regard the evidence adduced at the trial as of rare cogency, and, in truth, irresistible. There is, however, one matter not mentioned to-day, on which it is desirable to communicate with the lord chief justice ; and in the mean time you will be pleased to leave here the address of the clergyman who has taken so much interest in this case, and who called on 80 NOWANDTHEN. me and on the lord chief justice upon this subject.' From his lordship's manner, I should not be surprised if the reverend gentleman have a communication made to him respecting some matter which he may have mentioned to the lord chief justice. The moment that I have any thing new, you may rely on hear- ing from me ; and meanwhile I am " Your very faithfiil servant, " Jonathan Burnley." " P.S. — As you intend to take no costs in this matter, neither shall I — regarding it as a matter of humanity. At the same time, if funds be provided by those well able to afford it, I think it would be not unreasonable for both you and me to be reim- bursed the money which we may actually expend on the occa- sion ; but equally with yourself, I will not hear of any thing further." The other matter to which the secretary of state referred, Mr. Hylton perfectly understood ; and the allusion to it threw him into a brief and anxious reverie. He had not felt himself at liberty to communicate the point to which Lord Fambor- ough must have alluded, to Mr. Melcombe ; whose inquiries concerning the matter, on the present occasion, he easily parri- ed. Both he and Mr. Melcombe were somewhat dashed in spirit by the foregoing letter. Neither of them could deny the weight which there was in the secretary of state's observations. As for the prospect of his being able to extort from Lord Mil- verstoke an explanation of the mysterious conversation at the banqueting-table, and, above all, permission to communicate it to the secretary of state, Mr. Hylton had regarded it as being G'lite as much out of the question as procuring his lordship to join in a recommendation to mercy. Ought his lordship, in- deed, under all the dreadful circumstances of the case, to be pressed upon such a subject 1 It required no small amount of firmness even to contemplate making the effort. Momentous as were the interests which a strong sense of duty had impelled Mr. Hylton to take into his keeping — the saving an innocent man from the blighting death of the guilty — he nevertheless could not regard the unfortunate Earl of Milverstoke otherwise than as an object of profound sympathy; as one whose grieved and harassed heart should not be assailed with rude iutrusiveness, but approached with the delicacy and deference due to the ter- rible sufferings with which it had pleased the wisdom of God tn NOW AND THEN. 181 visit him. If Mr. Hylton verily believed in AylifFe'a innocence, he remembered that it was in bold disregara of all those appear- ances and facts vi^hich abundantly justified, not only the Earl of Milverstoke, but every dispassionate, impartial person, in be- lieving AylifFe to be really guilty of that cowardly and savage murder of which he had been openly and fairly convicted by a court of justice. "What father might not be expected to act similarly, if similarly situated 1 To the earl Mr. Hylton had himself most expressly admitted, that if he had felt satisfied of Ayliffe's guilt, he would not interpose to shield a murderer from that punishment with which the law, both of God and man, visit- ed his crime. Mr. Hylton had brought himself to disbelieve in Ayliffe's guilt ; but how was he to bring to that conviction the cruelly bereaved father, the Earl of Milverstoke 1 To attempt to coerce an understanding so clear and powerful as his 1 For of this Mr. Hylton sometimes feared that his efforts were falling but little short. Yet he inwardly disclaimed as equally absurd, insulting, cruel, and hopeless, all design to influence the feel ings of Lord Milverstoke, independently of his judgment. Mr Hylton was justly entitled to place much reliance on his own understanding, which was really of a superior order; yet he often apprehensively asked himself what degree of confidence was he now, at this late stage of the affair, warranted in re- posing iri his ovni judgment, running counter as it did to that of the lord chief justice and the secretary of state, neither of them, surely, incapable of forming that judgment, or biased by partiality, or any assignable improper motive whatever; both of them, moreover, being men of high intellectual power, of great experience, and most humanely disposed. Fortified by their unshaken conclusions, did not the Earl of Milverstoke stand, as it were, upon a rock ; and might he not well be ex- cused for repulsing Mr. Hylton's pertinacious efforts, with a kind of impatient scorn and indignation 1 These were reflec tions occasioning Mr. Hylton increasing anxiety and misgiving, especially with reference to what he feared to have been the unauthorized use which he had made with the lord chief just- ice of Captain Lutteridge's intimation concerning an alleged occurrence at the Earl of Milverstoke's ovra table, and which it was sought by Mr. Hylton to connect with the death of Lord A.lkmond. How injurious and unwarrantable must not this ap- pear to the earl ! and this, too, as he saw by Mr. Burnley's let- ter, the lord chief justice had communicated to the secretary of 182 N O W A N D T H E N. etate, who seemed, in consequence of it, evidently about to take some step or othei which might place Mr. Hylton in a po- sition of greatly aggravated and alarming embarrassment and responsibility. And his fears were abundantly justified by the event ; for, on the morning after Mr. Melcombe's visit, Mr. Hyl- ton received by post a letter, wearing an official aspect, ad- dressed " To the Rev. Hem-y Hylton, at the Vicarage, Milver- stoke," with the name of the secretary of state, " Farnbor- OUGH," in the corner, sealed with his seal of office, and bear- ing the authoritative words " On his Majesty's Service. Imme- diate." A little fluttered by the sight of this formidable missive, Mr. Hylton withdrew with it into his library, where he opened it and read as follows : " London, 15th of April "Reverend Sir, " I am directed by Lord Farnborough to communicate with you upon a matter of considerable difficulty, and also of press- ing urgency, as it relates to the case of a prisoner, Adam Ay- liffe, capitally convicted at the last Assizes for your county ol the murder of the late Lord Viscount Alkmond, and now await- ing execution on the 18th instant, having been respited till that day by the lord chief justice, in consequence of representations made by you to his lordship on the day ensuing that of the sen- tence. Lord Farnborough has bestowed the greater attention on this case, in consequence of the illness and absence from Iiondon of the lord chief justice, with whom, however, his lord- ship some days ago fully conferred on the subject. And I am now to recall to your recollection one particular ground propos- ed by you to the lord chief justice for delaying execution on the prisoner. You represented in a very confident manner that, if time were afforded, you might be able to discover the existence of facts at present enveloped in mystery, the tendency of which was, unless you are misunderstood, to connect the death of the deceased Lord Alkmond with matters which were not brought to notice at the trial. You are further reported to have inti- mated that the persons able to afford such information are of rank and station, indisposed to speak of the matter at present from scruples of delicacy, fearing the imputation of a breach of confidence. You also further stated, that the person to whom you had already spoken, and promised again to apply, had ex- pressed an opinion (in which you yourself, as you stated, had NOW AND THEN. 183 heard sufficient to -prevent your concurrence^ that the information, when obtained, would prove to havfe no bearing on the case, re- lating, though it did, to the late Lord Alkmond's quitting Mil- verstoke Castle at a very unusual hour, and under very unusual circumstances, for the wood in which he was so shortly after- ward found murdered. I am directed to draw your most so ••ious attention to the responsibility attaching to any person mak- ing these communications ; and also to those who have it in tlieir power to prove at once that these suggestions and representa- tions are either well founded, or totally groundless. A very painful responsibility is, moreover, thus cast on those whose duty it is to direct the administration of justice, and advise his majesty in a matter of life and death. As a clergyman and magistrate, you need not be reminded of what Lord Farnbor- ough is to expect from you under these critical circumstances : and you are requested, without a moment's delay, to furnish his lordship with such information as may be acted upon, one way or the other. And Lord Famborough directs me to in- form you, finally, that in the absence of any further communi- cation from you, or of intelligence of a decisively satisfactory nature relating to this subject, the present respite will not bn extended. " I have the honor to remain, reverend sir, " Your very faithful and most obedient servant, " J. C. L. Wylmington. "The Rev. Hemy Hylton, Vicar of Milverstoke." " ' The -present respite will not he extended !' Oh ! words of portentous significance !" exclaimed Mr. Hylton aloud, in a despairing way, as, haying finished reading the letter, he leaned back in his chair for nearly a quarter of an hour, in dire dismay and perplexity. What had sprung up out of his own unjustifi able precipitation ! for by no gentler name could he now char- acterize what he had done in making to the lord chief justice the communication of which that eminent and conscientious functionary had felt it his duty to apprise the minister intrusted with the executive authority of the state ; and whom the above letter of the under secretary showed to have been plunged into deep anxiety by such communication. One of the first thing;, that now recurred to Mr. Hylton's recollection was the Earl of Milverstoke's most peremptoiy and emphatic assurance to hino. that the matter spjken of by Captain Lutteridge could have nc 184 NOW AND THEN. bearing whatever upon the question of tho prisoner's guilt or innocence ; and so had, in the very first instance, said Captain Lutteridge himself! Had it thus become Mr. Hylton's duty, without harassing the earl any more, to act upon his deliberate assurance, and write off to the home secretary, frankly abandon- ing as untenable the plea for delay which had called forth his lordship's letter 1 But suppose he should do so ; Ayliffe be ex- ecuted ; and it were to be afterward discovered that the matter in question had a bearing, and a vital bearing, upon the question of his guilt or innocence ; showed that whoever else might have committed this mysterious murder, Ayliffe had not ; and that he had been hanged in spite of his vehement and unwavering de- nial of guilt and assertion of innocence, and without a stain on his previous character to lend color to so frightful a charge as that in respect of which he had unjustly suffered ] Was not that a possibility sufficient to make the most stout-hearted man shudder ] Was, then, Mr. Hylton again to impoitune the earl upon the subject ; to show him the letter from the secretary of state ; and leave with his lordship the painful responsibility of withholding the desired information 1 Suppose he should de- mand from Mr. Hylton why he had not at once conveyed to the authorities, with whom he had been so busily communicating, the earl's own deliberate and emphatic declaration on the subject 1 Mr. Hylton was a courageous man, and of inflexible firmness of purpose ; yet he contemplated another interview with the earl with grave, very gi-ave, anxiety. Fear he knew not ; but what was not due to the feelings of the father of a murdered son 1 And had not Lord Milverstoke movingly acknowledged to him that, though the conversation of which he was in quest had no bearing on the dreadful murder of his son, yet was it so connected with other associations and recollections, as to occa- sion his lordship exquisite pain in adverting to if? Again, had not the secretary of state addressed to him weighty matter; and was he not entitled to the prompt and decisive answer which he had demanded ; and the refusal or neglect to afford which would plainly absolve him from all kind of responsibility, and a thou- sand-fold augment that which already rested upon others 1 Again, Mr. Hylton was beginning to regard with intense dis- favor and repugnance this attempt to extort and divulge private conversation, that which had passed in the unrestrained freedom of fancied security, the confidentia. intercourse of private life. NOWANDTHKN. 185 It required the conviction of some positive and overwhelming necessity to overcome such feelings in the breast of a gentleman; and a gentleman, indeed, and of pure and high feelings, was Mr. Hylton. But all this while poor Adam Ayliffe was lying in irons, broken-hearted, and drawing nearer, hourly, to the ig- nominious agonies and horrors of the scaffold ! Wliat was to he done ? indeed. Mr. Hylton, conscious of the purity of his motives, and yet perceiving the thick darkness which seemed to lie upon the path of duty, humbly commended himself and his proceedings to God, and besought His assistance, that he might not, from mistaken motives, be blindly and rashly at- tempting to thwart the will of Providence ; and instead of fur- thering the ends of justice, frustrate and pervert its efforts to attain them. For suppose, after all, that Ayliffe were falsely protesting his innocence, had really slain Lord Alkmond in mis- take for another, or — horrid thought— had, through Mr. Oxiey's prnreedings, fallen into a mortal frenzy of hatred against the Earl of Milverstoke and his son 1 How many had gone to the scaffold as loudly protesting their innocence as did Ayliffe, and concerning whose giiilt there yet never was even a shadow of doubt ! Distracted by these considerations, he folded up the letter, placed it in his pocket-book, ordered his horse, and re- solved to go straightway and take counsel with quiet and judi- cious Mr. Melcombe. After having gone a little past the road which led to the barracks, " Why," said he to himself, suddenly stopping his horse, " why should I not try my fate again with Captain Lutteridge ]" He remained stationary for several min- utes, and' then, turning his horse's head, rode up to the bar- racks, resolved to read to the captain the letter of the secretary of state, and see what new view of the case it might present to that straightforward and well-meaning officer. The captain re- ceived him with a sort of bluff caution ; that of a plain, unsus- pecting man, who, feeling that he had somehow or other got himself into difficulties on former occasions, was now, at all events, resolved to present no salient points of attack. Mr Hylton, with whom time was becoming momentarily nior' precious, came to the subject of his application in a moment ^ assuring the captain that he, Mr. Hylton, had taken no steps of any kind since they had met on the last occasion ; but that the affair on which he had honored himself by then speaking to the captain had suddenly assumed a more serious aspect thaa ever " This, sir, in short, is a quandary ; one you have got into, and 180 NOW AND THEN. must get out of," said the captain, in a matter-of-fact manner ; " and how do you intend doing it 1 I can't help you. We military people generally, you see, look a hair's breadth or so beyond our noses, if one may so speak, in the moves we make ; considering not only how to advance, but how to retreat ; not only, do you see, how to get to a place, but, by Jupiter — forgive me, sir ! — what to do when there ; and then, how to get back again !" "I can not deny, Captain Lutteridge," said Mr. Hylton, with a very harassed air, " that I feel myself in a terrible per- plexity — " " Then give me, so please you, your hand," said the captain, advancing to him cordially, with his right arm extended. " You linow what my opinion was t'other day when you gave me the honor of a visit ; and I thought, by ! hem ! I ask your par- don, sir ; but — eh, sir ] Has any thing new come of it ?" " I have received within this hour," said Mr. Hylton, very seriously, while he opened his pocket-book and took out the secretary of state's letter, " a letter of such weight and conse- quence, that I shall leave it to speak for itself. Captain Lut- teridge." " All about that abominable vagabond, I suppose, who — " " Captain Lutteridge," said Mr. Hylton, in a very feeling way, " you pain me, indeed. Why should you, an officer, a man of birth, a gentleman, use language such as this toward a poor wretch at this moment shivering in irons, and expecting hourly to die an unjust death, as I believe it will be, since, as I have told you, I think him innocent 1" " I ask your pardon, reverend sir," said the captain, very courteously ; " but do not forget that we think differently about this affair ; at least, you and Lord Milverstoke do. As for me," lie added, with a look of sudden vexation, " little care I, truly, whether this gentleman live or die !" " This is the letter I spoke of, captain. Will you read it ]" said Mr. Hylton ; and his companion immediately took the let- ter, reading every line of it as scrupulously as though it had been some death-warrant addressed to, and requiring execution by, himself. " Phew ! phew ! sir !" he exclaimed, or rather whistled, when he had finished reading the letter, down even to the signature ; " by this time you must be somewhat sick of this business ! Well, I do say, not intending disrespect to civilians, Jut give me, reverend sir, a military trial, and a quick death NOW AND THEN. 187 according to order, without questions asked after the court hath broken up ! It saves a world of trouble — all such as this you are giving yourself, and occasioning others too !" " But — forgive me, captain — what say you to the substance of this letter t Is my tongue to be tied, and is yours, and this man to die, therefore, possibly unjustly 1" " Why, sir, as to the letter, what is the secretary of state to my Lord Milverstoke or me 1 Can he force open our lips 1 No ; nor fifty Lord Farnboroughs, sir !" " But I trust you see now how careful I was, with both my Lord Farnborough and the chief justice, to say nothing, till authorized, about persons or places, as well as things ]" " That, sir, of course, you would be," interposed the captain, dryly. " But let me ask," continued Mr. Hylton, " supposing this letter had been addressed to you, captain, and you were in my place, what answer would you give V " Why, sir, I would not have put myself in your place, do you see ; for I should have deemed myself to be (which doubt- less you, reverend sir, by reason of your holy cloth, are not) meddling somewhat." " But, Captain Lutteridge, I implore an answer; time press- es frightfully !" " Why, you see, sir, I am a soldier, and you a parson, rev- erend sir ; therefore — " The captain paused ; the conse- quence, of which he had indicated the approach, not appearing, or presenting itself, exactly when he wished it. " I must, in virtue of the sacred office which I hold, and of which you have reminded me, implore you to let no imagin- ary notions of honor — " " Honor ! honor imaginary ! I give you my word, reverend sir, that I never heard any thing so monstrous fall from man before !" said the captain, with an amazed air. " Ob, sir, neither said I, nor thought I, aught that you could except to," replied Mr. Hylton. " No man values honor more than I ; nor think I any man living can have a truer, keener sense of it than you. Captain Lutteridge. All I dread is, lest, while you strain honor too far, a fellow-creature be sacrificed." " What would you, then, reverend sir," inquired the captain, somewhat appeased, " with me now, after what has before passed between us 1 For I do protest that I know not ! Say plainly, sir !" 188 NOWANDTHKN. " This being an imminent matter of life and death," said Mr. Hylton, after a pause, " do you feel yourself at liberty to au- thorize me, should I deem it proper, to communicate to the sec- retary of state what yOu told me before I went up to London ]" " No, sir," replied the captain, quietly. " Is that really your final determination, dear captain 1" in- quired Mr. Hylton, with such a kind of intensity in his manner as quite touched the soldier's heart. " Upon ray word of honor, sir, I really fear it is. You see, sir, I have often talked over this matter with my brother offi- cers ; and we all, being bred alike, think alike. Where one's own honor and another man's life are in conflict, what the deuse to do we know not. We made not honor : it is made for us : it governs us all, or ought; and it shall govern me, and be obeyed, so help — hem ! I beg your pardon, sir, for what 1 was going to say, but did not, you being a clergyman." "I am distracted !" said Mr. Hylton, pressing his hand to his forehead. " So, methinks, with much respect, you have good reason to be, reverend sir. Look you at the way in which you have fixed every body : my Lord Milverstoke ; my Lord Farnborough ; me ; but most especially yourself. Surely, good sir, it was not I that did all this !" " True, true, captain," replied Mr. Hylton, with a melan- choly air, and sighing deeply ; " and yet, had you not yourself, with all a soldier's most honorable frankness, first volunteered to tell me all this — " "PifF! paff! Phew!" exclaimed the captain, suddenly starting up as if he had just received a pistol-shot. "Why, sir, egad ! you are right ! What you say is quite true !" Captain Lutteridge stood rubbing his chin, and gazing earnestly, in perturbed silence, at Mr. Hylton. " Why, hang me, sir, if it is not I that have put you and every body else into a false posi- tion !" He paused, gazing at Mr. Hylton with the look of a man astounded by some sudden discovery. " Sir, in his majes- ty's service there is not, I do believe, a greater fool at this mo- ment than am I, Captain Lutteridge. The devil hath this day suddenly paid me off handsomely a somewhat long score. 1 beseech you, reverend sir, in this homble state that I am in, tell me what should I do ? I own all this never occurred to me, nor those that I have talked with on the subject. I won- der ray brother officers yonder never thought of it ; for as for NOW AND THEN. 189 myself, I am a fool, an arrant fool ! Sir, I — I beg your par- don for putting you into all this difficulty." " My dear captain," said Mr. Hylton, mildly, having waited till the captain's excitement had a little abated, " I really meant not to suggest any thing of this kind. It did not occur to me — " " Oh yes, it did, sir ; but you were too civil to say it. I stand an ass, sir, a very ass before you ! And what the deuse to do I know not ; yet, on my honor, I never meant to do any thing but what was proper and humane." " Still, captain, let us not overlook the real difficulty of the case, nor forget what is due to yourself and also to me, as men of honor, as well as of humanity and religion. It is I that have entailed all this perplexity, by my unauthorized communication of what you had so frankly told me, in your love of justice and fair play. I may have erred in what I did ; but what else- could I have done 1 I was forced to leave by that night's coach, or all would have been in vain ; and, had I not made some use of what you had told me, I might as well have stayed here. And when I came back, and poor Ayliffe's body was swinging in the air, you might have reproached me for my false honor and punctilio, and (for aught I could then have known) might have said that, in a matter like this, your delicacy would have given way." " Sir, there's no gainsaying it. What a puzzle you must have been in ! Sometimes, it seems, things will so turn out that no man can possibly know how to act ; and then the only thing is to do nothing, which can never be wrong." " Oh captain, captain ! can not it ] Look at this case — this very case !" " I don't know, for the life of me, what to do !" said he, walk- ing hastily up and down the room. " Let me, sir, read the letter again. It is a somewhat long-winded, round-about dis- patch. Methinks I would have said as much in twenty words." He read it over pretty rapidly. " One thing, sir, it shows that you certainly acted very handsomely at headquarters in not committing one whom you had no right to commit." " Indeed, captain, I so deeply appreciated your disinterested and noble anxiety to assist the cause of justice and humanity, that I was doubly — trebly — on my guard." " Q,uite correct, sir, to be so— quite !" " Now suppose, dear captain, that you had happened to be in London at the time, and had thoughts of going at once to 190 NOWANDTHEN. head quarters to prevent injustice in this veiy matter being un- wittingly done ; don't you think you might have said just as much to my lord chief justice as you did to me 1 and felt that Lord Milverstoke could have no right to interfere in such a case of life and death as ought to be left to every man's own con- science alone to deal withi" " There's no knowing what a man might do when suddenly pushed, and off his guard. But, for the matter of this letter" — he turned to it again — " it seems that you very handsomely told the judge what I said, that I thought the matter in question had no bearing on the case." " I did, most distinctly, most emphatically." "But — forgive me, reverend sir; how came you to say, thereupon, that you differed from me 1" " Pardon me, dear captain ; I thought I was right in doing so. It appeared to me that at a point of time so all-important as that of Lord Alkmond's quitting the castle for the wood — " " That, sir, is what I so marvel — ^have always marveled — at. What possible bearing — pshaw ! — what could dueling have to do with this vagabond and Lord — " " Dueling /" echoed Mr. Hylton, with a great start, while Captain Lutteridge sprang clean out of the chair in which he bad the moment before sat down, and slapped his hand despe- rately on his mouth, as though he would have forced back the word that had leaped forth, never to return. "Did I say dueling?" commenced the captain, in a low tone, after a long gasp, and staring amazedly at his companion, who looked equally astounded with him. "Yes, you did. Captain Lutteridge !" said Mr. Hylton, in an absent manner, having fallen suddenly into a reverie. The captain stood still, his eyes fixed on the floor, in silence " Bah !" at length he exclaimed, with such a violent stamp of his foot that the floor quivered under it. " I — I — look on this as a stroke of fate, sir!" said he, approaching Mr. Hylton with a desperate air, his face quite flushed. " We don't part, rever- end sir, till we have agreed on what is to be done with the word that hath thus accursedly jumped out from me," said the cap tain, hastily going to the door, which he locked, and took out of it the key. Then he strode to the fire-place, and gave Mr. Hyl- ton, in passing, a furious glance. " Look you, sir, we soldiers are plain people ; and if you, being one cunning in speech, caine hither to lay a trap for me — " NOW AND THEN. 191 " Captain Luttei-idge," replied Mr. Hylton, with dignity, ''your language shows that you labor under sudden excitement. Do you, now that I remind you of your expression, really mean, sir, to insinuate that I, a Christian minister, and, I trust, a gentle- man also, could, under any conceivable circumstances whatever, stoop to the baseness of inveigling you into a breach of confi- dence ? I forgive you, Captain Lutteridge ; and also the gross and, saving your presence, vulgar indignity," continued Mr. Hyl- ton, pointing sternly to the door, " which you have just perpe- trated upon me." " Mr. Hylton — reverend sir — I — ^beg your pardon ; I — ask forgiveness, having quite forgotten myself and you too," said Captain Lutteridge, bowing profoundly, while the color a little deserted his cheek; and hastily stepping to the door, he un- locked and threw it open. Then, returning to Mr. Hylton, he resumed, " You are as free as air, sir ; free to go whither you please ; to say, to do what you please, sir ; any where ; to any body. You are a gentleman, sir ; and I, an officer, have not, I fear, acted as became an officer and a gentleman." Nothing could exceed the utter soldier-like' simplicity, and the gravity, and the fine spirit with which all this was said by Captain Lutteridge. " 'Tis all forgiven — forgotten ; it is as though it had never happened, my dear captain," replied Mr. Hylton ; " and I shall deem myself honored if you will suffer me to shake you by the hand, for whose character I have already learned to feel great admiration. Never saw I one whom I believed to be actuated by nobler motives ; of that be assured ; and as for this strange word that has escaped you, it is buried here" — he placed his right hand on his heart — " it is considered by me already as utterly unspoken." "God bless you, reverend sir! give me your hand!" said Captain Lutteridge, almost with tears in his eyes, grasping the proffered hand of Mr. Hylton. " I never came in my life near one that behaved with such handsomeness, by — ;I beg pardon, sir ! But I never did ! And I'm beginning, I know not how, to take quite a different view of the whole matter. By Jove, sir, your whole conduct on behalf of this poor wretch is disin- terested, and great beyond utterance. The trouble you have taken — what you have put up with while doing all that you have done — no one thinks so high of as your humble, unworthy serv ant. Captain Lutteridge; and God Almighty himself only can 192 W O W A N P T H E N. reward you, for he put it all in your heart to do ! Sir — I— 1 almost begin to think this man — God forgive me for calling him a vagabond, poor wretch — must be, as you say innocent; though his case has, it must be owned, a desperate ugly look, or you would not have been led to do all you have done ; and if so" — the captain paused for a moment — " I have been all this while doing my best to tie the rope round his neck !" While Captain Lutteridge was saying all this, Mr. Hylton ap peared to be attentively listening to him in silence ; but his mind was profoundly engaged with that subject which had been suggested to it by the word that had fallen from Captain Lut- teridge — dueling! Dueling? Had J N O VV A N D T H E N. Alkmond's departure from the castle to the wood. It consisted of a conversation merely, among some of the guests left at the table, after Lord Milverstoke and others had quitted it, Lord Alkmond remaining' behind. A topic was casually introduced which led to rather animated conversation, and which was ob- served to be extremely disagreeable, and even painful, to Lord Alkmond, who took no part in it ; and, finding it persevered in, quitted the room, and was not seen afterward alive by any of the guests at the castle. The gentleman who first told me of this circumstance was one of those who dined at the castle on that occasion ; and hearing, after the trial of this case, of a re- mark which had fallen from the lord chief justice, sent for me, and told me of the fact of this conversation, but declined men- tioning what was the subject of it, until he should have re ceived my Lord Milverstoke's permission. " I have just quitted the castle, where, I lament to say that, while I was with his lordship, he was seized vdth sudden — and possibly, I fear, serious — illness ; such as will probably render it impossible for his lordship to do what he explicitly declared to me that it was his intention to do to-morrow — namely, to write and inform my Lord Famborough that the conversation in question was on the subject of dueling. I conceive, under the special circumstances of the case, that 1 am justified in making this disclosure, to which I trust Lord Farnborough will give no publicity, unless it be deemed absolutely necessary for the ends of justice. I feel bound in candor to state, that after very anxious reflection during this day, I am at a loss to sug- gest any probable connection between the happening of this conversation and the perpetration of the murder ; nor have I, at present, any reason to believe that more light can be thrown on the subject, notwithstanding the possibility of the fact proving to be otherwise, were further time allowed for inquiry. And I must add, that the Earl of Milverstoke has repeatedly and most explicitly stated to me that he knew no reason whatever for Lord Alkmond's being agitated by such a conversation as that above mentioned, and could not conjecture what bearing it could have upon the horrible murder of the late lamented Lord Alkmond. " I have been made aware of what passed before Lord Fam- borough, and in your presence, relating to this matter. I have no new facts or suggestions to offer on this subject, which I must now finally leave in the hands of his lordship, under the NOW AND THEN. 221 direction of a superintending Providence. I can not, however, abstain from adding, that my own conviction of the prisoner's innocence remains unshaken ; but, at the same time, I can not deny the strength of the case against him, if regarded solely with reference to the facts established at the trial. " I have the honor to be, sir, " Your obedient servant, " Henry Hylton." •• The Hon. H. J. C. Wylmington." " Alas, Adam ! my poor friend ! I fear all is over ! I have done my best — but, I fear, in vain," were the words with which, on the ensuing morning, Mr. Hylton led into his library old Ay- liffe, who had come down to learn the final result of Mr. Hyl- ton's benevolent exertions ; having walked for that purpose all the way from the country town where his son lay awaiting death. Ayliffe clasped his hands together in silence, and looked unutterable things at Mr. Hylton, who seemed unable to bear the misery that gleamed upon him from those penetrating blue eyes, the expression of which he had, in happier days, so often admired. " Then he must die !" faintly exclaimed the old man, after a while, his eyes never having wandered for even an instant from those of Mr. Hylton, who only shook his head, in sad af- fiiToance of Ayliffe's words. " Oh ! let me return to my son !" said the old man, slowly rising. " Adam ! my son ! my son ! would God I might die with thee ! How we could uphold one another in passing through the waters ! Will you not pray for us, sir, that God would be with us in this bitter hourl" " Ay, my poor brother ; let us kneel before Him who will see, and hear, and answer us, though it may not be as we would at this moment desire." Mr. Hylton gently assisted Ayliffe to his knees (for he ap- peared bevnldered, though he had spoken calmly), and sinking on his own, with faltering voice addressed a short and fervent prayer to the Almighty, that he would vouchsafe support to those who reverently strove, whether living or dying, to yield themselves to His sovereign will in all things. " The blessing of an old man, fatherless, be upon thee and thine, thou minister of God I" said Ayliffe, when they had risen from their knees; and his countenance, voice, and gesture seemed, as he spoke, scarcely to be of this world. 222 NOW AND THEN. " Amen, Adam ! Amen !" said Mr. Hylton, gi-asping his linnds affectionately. "Is it fixed that my son die on Monday?" inquired Ayliffe, with dreadful calmness. " It is — alas ! it is !" replied Mr. Hylton : " I see now no earthly means whatever of delaying the day, or preventing the execution of the law." " Friday ! — Saturday ! — Sunday !" said Ayliffe, gazing in- tently at Mr. Hylton. " Yes, Adam ; three days ! only three ! How important are they !" " And then my son is no more on earth ! Let me go to my son ! I stay too long from him !" The old man rose from his seat, and walking slowly to the door, taking his hat in one hand, and his staff in the other, exclaimed, as if to himself, "Adam! Adam ! I am coming to thee !" . " How go you, Adam, my dear friend 1 Have you any con- veyance thither ]" inquired Mr. Hylton, earnestly. His words seemed for a moment to rouse his unhappy companion. " Grod will guide me. If he do not give me strength, I faint by the way ; for truly, truly, sir, my heart is very faint, and my knees tremble !" " Remain a moment, till my return," said Mr. Hylton, hur- riedly — and presently returned, accompanied by Mrs. Hylton, who, in tearful silence, assisted her husband in pouring out a glass of wine, which the old man took with thankfulness, his hand trembling the while ; and observing Mrs. Hylton in tears, he shook his head mournfully, attempting to speak to her, but his lips uttered no audible sound. At that moment their little daughter timidly approached the door, and, entering the room, stole beside her mother, gazing around her apprehensively and in silence. Then the old man's feelings gave way, as he looked at her ; the tears forced themselves down his cheeks ; he shook his head for some time, evidently struggling for speech ; and at length said, in a faint voice, " The Lord bless thee, little one !" " Lay thy hands upon her, Adam, and give her thy blessing, thou suffering saint !" said Mr. Hylton : and gently placing his daughter before the old man, he put his hands upon her head, and solemnly and tremulously repeated his words, " The Lord bless thee ! Amen !" Shortly afterward he quitted the parsonage, and would not hear of any assistance being provided to enable him to return. NOW AND THEN. 2123 Mr. Hylton pledged himself to visit the unhappy convict, if pos- sible, on that very day; " Though I tell you, Adam, it will be a far sorer trial to me than I can well bear. I trust, however," continued Mr. Hylton, with emotion, " your poor son is satisfied that I have not lightly lengthened his sufferings." "Oh, sir! reverend sir! if it were lawful for man to bow to man, my poor Adam would fall on his knees before you, and even kiss the dust off your feet!" " Let him receive me calmly, Adam, I entreat thee ; or I may not be able to discharge the solemn office which I shall go to perform — to administer such counsel as God may enable me. Farewell, now, Adam, for a while ; and tell your son, if I be not with him before you, that I am coming ; that I will not — I can not— desert him." Within a few hours afterward Mr. Hylton, after a very mel- ancholy ride thither, entered the jail, and took an opportunity, before going to the condemned cell, of seeing the chaplain — an excellent person, most exemplary in the discharge of his gloomy duties at the prison, and who had been unremitting in his atten- tions to Ayliffe. The first words uttered by the chaplain con- cerning Ayliffe not a little agitated Mr. Hylton. "Poor soul!" said the chaplain, "he is about to ask you tc use your influence, as a magistrate, with the authorities (I told him that I knew it would be in vain), that, when he has suffered, his body may not be given over to be anatomized, but be buried in your church-yard, in the same grave with his mother, and that you will bury him." " I — I — can not then, see the unhappy man to-day ! My feelings are already overpowered. I am quite unfit to dis- charge the duty which I came to endeavor to do," said Mr. Hylton : and his disturbed countenance and gestures confirmed what he said. " Is his father with him V " No : he has not yet returned from Milverstoke. He was to have seen you, and asked you, in his son's name, to do what I have just mentioned." " He has been vnth me," said Mr. Hylton, almost in tears " but his heart must have failed him : he said not a word to me on the dismal subject." " That old man is piety personified. His reverent submis- sion to the will of G-od, in this awful dispensation of Provi- dence, has made all my own past teachings, my dear friend, seem poor and ineffectual. His image is ever before my eyes — '224 NOW AND THEN. his voice, solemn and calm, ever sounding in my ears. I sit, in spirit, at his feet!" " And his son : does he waver in asserting his innocence 1" " No, not for a moment : he is firm as at the first — declaring his belief that, when too late, it will be shown that the deed was done by others, and that he knew nothing of it whatever. Once he showed unusual emotion on the subject, and, drawing himself up with an air of true dignity, if ever dignity I saw in man, exclaimed, ' No murder could I do at all ; but least of all could I strike, coward-like, from behind. When I think of tJiat, and that people can believe Adam Ayliffe, an English- man, did so, I feel as though my heart would clean burst for shame and anger !' " Mr. Hylton listened to this in agitated silence ; for he could not speak. " And, in truth," continued the chaplain, " there is something noble in the poor fellow's features, and their expression is of a pure fi'ankness, such as never, I am sure, masked the heart of a murderer. I have come to your conclusion: and I terribly fear that this man is going to suffer wrongfully. But what can be done 1 Who is to be blamed 1 Consider that the gloomy position which has hanged him was sought out by himself; and, as we can not see with God's eyes, human justice must do the best it can." " I have, I think, satisfied Ayliffe that a fairer trial than he had could not have been. I have said to him, ' Had you been a juryman as your father has several times been, and sworn on such a trial as yours, your verdict, on your oath, must have been guilty ;' and he was silent." " In what state of feeling is he, now that his doom is un- changeably fixed 1" " Then it really is fixed?" inquired the chaplain, suddenly and very gravely. " I doubt no more that he will suffer on Monday, than that the sun will rise on that morning. Alas ! I am too well able to express that conviction. I have left no stone unturned — have moved in high, nay, the highest places — in vajn. Only last night there was a truly awful scene between Lord Milver- stoke and me, the consequence of which I can not foresee ; foi he was seized with a fit while I was with him, endeavoring, to the best of my ability, to induce upon him a Christian tempei of forgiveness and mercy " NOW AND THEN. "^'-5 " Is his lordship, then, stern and implacable as ever V " Indeed, I fear he is ; hut G-od gi-ant that, in my zeal, I may not have gone farther than my duty warranted. My heart bleeds for his sufferings ; so did it while I was with him. But, alas ! his will is as iron, seemingly not softened by affliction." " Oh, what a contrast — what a contrast to this old man. Ay liffe ! Before I leave you," said the chaplain, suddenly placing his hand on Mr. Hylton's arm, and speaking with a very impressive air, " let me say that you must attend the prisoner in his last houi — ^he will expect it — nay, I believe he vyill this day ask you." " Oh, my dear friend," replied Mr. Hylton, rather faintly, " forgive me ! I pray you cease ! Surely sufficient for the day is the evil thereof!" " True, my friend ; but prepare you for the painful question: and therefore only do I mention it. And now you must lose no time, if you would be of service to the prisoner. You will find two prayer-books in the cell, and will probably see the prisoner reading in the great old Bible of his father." " Adam ! Grod be with you !" exclaimed Mr. Hylton, as soon as the turnkey had unlocked, unbarred, and thrown open the door of the cell. Poor Ayliffe rose eagerly, the clanking of his heavy fetters sickening the very soul of his sorrowful visitor, whose hand he clasped convulsively, and then carried to his lips, but spoke not a word. " Alas, Adam ! I have only gloomy tidings for you, if you need be told them : all hope is now utterly extinguished — the day of your departure is near at hand. I feel it a sacred duty to assure you, that on Monday morning — cm Monday morning, Adam — the will of God will be accomplished on you. Then He who gave you life wUl take it from you : He who placed you on earth will remove you from it. May you, Adam Ay- liffe, be ready for that tremendous change !" Finding that Ayliffe was firmly grasping his hand, and sigh- ing deeply, but apparently not suffering violent emotion, Mr. Hylton, in a low, earnest tone, continued to address him. " Regard this transitory life, henceforth, as over : fled as a dream : gone as a shadow : yet leaving" its traces in most awful responsibility on account of what has been done in that brief space, in that fleeting dream and passing shadow ! Look up- ward ! For that is your spirit formed — of that, made capable. Be not disheartened, be not presumptuous ! It is fearful ti, 22G NOW AND THEN. look back on the long array of sins that you have committed, known only to God, and yourself, to whom He may now have made many visible that had before been forgotten ! What sins willfully committed, stifling the voice of conscience ! what myriad of holy warnings disregarded ! Let not the foul tempter and enemy of mankind, in these your last hours, deceive you ; be prepared against him. He will strive, as striven I know he has, to tell you of great sins and little sins, and that none which you have committed do deserve this punishment which is in- flicted upon.you — nay, impiously will he tell you that this death which is coming on you is unjust ! Here Ayliffe heaved a pro- found sigh, but made no attempt to speak. " Whether you die innocent of the crime for which the law of man has declared your life the forfeit, God perfectly kno weth, as you can not doubt ; and if your conscience be herein void of offense toward God and man, God forbid that such a consciousness should lead you down to destruction, by inciting profane and rebellious thoughts ! Adam, as a servant of the living God, I earnestly warn you against this deadly snare and danger, and remind you that, as you can not escape in any wise from the power of God Almighty, you must needs resign yourself into His hands, whose wisdom is unsearchable, infinitely past finding out, but also whose good- ness and justice are perfect and absolute : and in this dispensa- tion, which appears to you strange and unreasonable, yet in a moment — in the twinkling of an eye — He could reveal most abundantly sufficient grounds and reasons for this His order- ing. He may not choose to do so with you in this life, though possibly, when you are gone. He may vouchsafe to make plain all that seems mysterious and confounding. And he may not choose now to show you a reason for what he doth with you, because he will have you thoroughly exercise your faith and obedience, as the condition of your immortal soul entering into happiness with Him that can have no end. And, though you die innocent of this particular act charged against you, and so in the language of men die unjustly — yet forget never that this evil over- took you when seeking revenge, and indulging malignity most ut- terly abhorrent to God and contrary to all religion) — yet, Adam ! l:hink of One who asked that, if it were possible, the cup of agony and death might pass from, Him, yet submitted to the will of His Father, and knowing no sin, died yet the just for the unjust ! Adam ! let this thought kindle your spirit." " Oh, sir ! there — there are all my hopes : all is darkness but NOW AND THEN. !ia7 there ! And when I, though only for a moment, put off that thought and hope, I sink! and am quite undone !" This Ayliffe said very earnestly, and in a way that greatly consoled and encouraged Mr. Hylton, who then spoke long and movingly to him of the glorious, but awful, Presence in which they were, and brought before him the gracious promises, and also the strict conditions, of the Gospel. Poor Ayliffe's answers told Mr. Hylton of the constant presence and teaching of old Ayliffe, whom Mr. Hylton likened to the guardian-angel of his son. " And now, Adam, one question must I ask you, and the an- swer must be a true one, and it will tell at once whether your peace and hopes for hereafter be well or ill founded. Do you, from your very heart and sftul, forgive all mankind — even those whom you think to have most grievously wronged you V "Ay, sir, I do: God be thanked, I do!" replied Ayliffe, quickly and heartily, and with such a heavenly smile on his features, that Mr. Hylton felt an indescribable awe in looking at him and listening to him. " Do you forgive Lord Milverstoke V " Oh, sir, why should I be angered vnth him 1 His son has been murdered, and he thinks that I did it ! But he has done nothing of malice against me, who die according to law. Nev- er in this case have I felt malice toward my lord, so God be my witness I" " There is another, Adam," said Mr. Hylton, pointedly. " I know, sir, whom you mean— one that has truly been my enemy, and the foe of my father and me." " I mean Mr. Oxley, Adam." " I do clearly and perfectly forgive him as I do hope myself to be forgiven ; but I must say the truth, sir ; it has been a long and a hard business to do this — ^but God has heard prayer for me, and helped me to feel the forgiveness that I speak of; and I hope he will, when I am. gone, bethink him of bis unkindness toward those who never injured him, and were striving hard to Jive honestly, though near upon starving." " And yet, Adarn Ayliffe, is there one other." " Oh, sir, you speak of Hundle, that first led me into all this. Whatever he has done against me I have forgiven — I do for- give ! He was a cruel and deceitfijl man to me, but he must answer to God for it \" " And haye you, Adacn — it is my duty to rerpind you — noth- 228 NOW AND then; ing to answer for against that man 1 With God, intended guilt is guilt. He sees into the heart!" " I know it, sir ! I know it !" replied Ayliffe, with a contrite air. " I went out to lie in wait for him with foul ill-will : and Satan might have urged me further than I had meant ; for I will own, sir, that as I walked into that wood, waiting to see him, when I thought of him, these fingers tightened like a vice on my stick. Oh, sir ! a terrible business it might have been !" " And all this Adam, fully seen and known by Almighty God at the time ! The forgiveness that you pray for must first be shown by you — there must not be one spark of animosity lurk- ing in your heart, or it will pollute the whole beyond cleansing ! And have you thus thoroughly forgiven 1" " Ay, ay, have I, God being my Vvitness ! and from the time I first felt that I had done so, I was a changed man ; and, even in these irons, felt for a while free and light-hearted ! I have forgiven ! I do — so may God forgive me !" said Ayliffe, with a look of such meek sincerity, that Mr. Hylton implicitly be- lieved him, and said, veiy cheerfully, " Why, Adam ! God hath been with you ! and He is vidth you, and will be with you !" " So I do humbly believe and hope, sir; yet I feel often- times sharp and bitter pains and pangs, and fall into darkness. There's one — nay, there be more that I leave behind me — would that they went with me, if such were the will of God and so were quit of a miserable world!" " Beware of such thoughts, Adam ! for they lead to unholy repinings and doubts. God may have good or evil in store for them ; but only when He pleases will they go after you. In the course of nature, your good, your virtuous father, must fol- low you, and it may not be long; but, while he lives, surely you will be thankful that he is left here to watch, for a while, over those whom you love 1" " But, sir, there is a thing that does cruelly trouble my poor soul : where is their bread to come from 1 Who is to work for them when I am gone 1 Oh, sir ! almost my last thoughts will be of that I My child is a poor, little, weak creature, and likely never to be able to stir for himself! Now would I cry, and would ever, when I think of him and Sarah : but cry I can not ! Tears will not come, though they might ease my heart, which feels hot and choked !" " My poor friend ! believe me when I assure you that God N O W A N D T 11 E N. ' 22t has already raised up a friend for those whom you will leave behind you. Cast your care on Him who careth for you ; those you love will not, shall not perish ; they shall not come to want !" Here AylifFe put his hand into his bosom, and took out a small packet, neatly fastened with thread, and opened it. There were two small papers, and each contained a lock of hair. " This is Sarah's, sir : and this is Adam's," said he ; and he gave such a sad, heart-bi-oken look, first at them, and then at Sir. Hyltori, that the latter's tears gushed out, and continued to do so for some momenta. " Ah, .sir, said Ayliffe, calmly and sighing, " I wish my tears could come ; but I am past it !" Then he folded up the little, precious remembrances, and re- placed them in his bosom. " Are these to be buried with me, sir ]" said he, with an ominous — a fearfully-significant look at Mr. Hylton, who, re- membering what the chaplain had prepared him for, felt sud- denly sick at heart. " What answer can I give you, my poor friend V inquired Mr. Hylton, in a low tone, looking down ; and there was a dis- mal silence. " Oh, sir, can not you, being a magistrate, beg off my poor body for burial ? Some pangs it might save me, to think that I. lay in the blessed earth of our church-yard at Milverstoke, in my mother's grave — ah ! you buried her, sir." " I did, Adam — I did ; may you soon meet her sainted spirit ! and, oh ! why care about the darkened dust that you leave be- hind you t If your spirit live forever in happiness — " " Sir — good, kind sir — I can not help it ! It is the nature that I am made of. My flesh creeps to think that — that this body — " he shuddered visibly from head to foot. " Poor fnend ! your feelings I respect — I would have your wishes attended to ; but, alas ! I have no power whatever. It pains me to remind you, Adam, of the sentence — " " Oh, I heard it, sir !" said he, and seemed for a moment ab- sorbed in a sickening recollection. " I know that, so as my soul be right, little signifies it about my poor body; but I should not tell truth if I said this thing did not grieve — ^nay, fright me. How I do think of it, sir ! Do, sir, promise to do what you can 1" 230 •• N O VV A N D T II E N. " I promise to do my utmost endeavor." " Thank you, sir," he replied, with a deep sigh. " And now I must leave you, Adam — " He rose up suddenly, his irons rattling so as to startle Mr. Hylton. " Not — not forever, sir !" said Ayliffe, with wild alarm in his face, stretching his arms toward Mr. Hylton. " What do you mean 1" inquired Mr. Hylton, faintly. " Oh, sir ! good, dear, merciful sir ! do come to me again ! I can not die happy if I see you not again !" " I will he with you again," faltered Mr. Hylton ; and, fear- ful of a more explicit promise beinjr exacted from him, knocked at the cell-door, which was immediately opened. Then, cordially grasping both the poor convict's hands, he fei-vently blessed him, and withdrew, with feelings much dis- turbed by the recollection of what had passed, and the prospect of the dismal scene which, after his promise, awaited him. NOW AND THEN. 231 CHAPTER VIII. Assured that he would be too much agitated by the event of the ensuing Monday morning to admit of his doing his ordi- nary duty at his church on the approaching Sunday, Mr. Hyl- ton succeeded in procuring the assistance of a friend; and, when the hour of divine service had arrived, Mr. Hylton was thankful that he had been relieved from a duty which he then felt that he certainly could not have gone through — at least with the requisite degree of calmness and self-possession. When the congregation, which was crowded, and very sad, saw Mr. Hylton walk, unrobed, into his own pew, while a stranger entered the reading-desk, they too surely surmised the cause ; and many eyed his harassed, benevolent counte- nance with beating hearts. He was obliged to change his position once ; for, as he stood, his eye fell on the seats, now vacant, which had usually been occupied by old Ayliffe and his son. Oh, where were they now ! Where would one of them be at that time on the moiTow 1 There were portions of the sublime service of the Church which fell on all ears, and sunk into all hearts, that day, like sounds from the unseen world. When aiiived at the ap- propriate part of the service, the minister paused for a moment, and, amid deathlike silence, said, " The prayers of this congregation are desired for several persons dangerously ill, anifor one appointed to die /" The responses to the Litany, that morning, were but faintly audible ; yet came they from the depths of hearts smitten with sympathy and fear. All that day MUverstoke, though a secluded and rural dis- trict, afforded significant evidence of the excitement which per- vaded the minds of those who lived in it and the neighborhood. Many strangers came to the church, both morning and after- noon ; afterward to be seen talking in the church-yard, and at the doors of the houses. As Mr. Hylton, with Mrs. Hylton and 232 NOW AND Til FN. their little girl, walked on to the parsonage, the obeisances ol those whom he passed were silent and almost reverential- bearing eloquent homage-to his untiring zeal in the cause of humanity. All were filled with concern at the final failure of his exer- tions to avert the fearful catastrophe which was to take place on the ensuing morning. The opinion of the neighborhood had undergone a great change, influenced by the profound respect which every one entertained for the vicar, his character, and talents. " If such a man," it was said, and not without good reason, " were so satisfied of the innocence of Ayliffe, as to have persevered with his strenuous exertions on his behalf, even up to the last moment, and had caused such doubts to be felt in the highest quarters, as had led to the fortnight's respit, which, iilas ! was to end on the mon-ow ; there must be very cogent grounds for the belief on which he had acted." Rumor had got hold of some of the circumstances on which Mr. Hylton had founded his futile hopes — and those circum- stances had been, as ig usually the case, greatly misrepresented, but all in favor of Ayliife. Vague whispers, also, were heard of something having oc- curred at the castle, on the night of the murder, of a very mys- terious character, connected with the ofiicers. Captain Lutter- idge's visits to the castle had been noticed, and also those of Mr. Hylton. The sudden illness of the Earl of Milverstoke, occurring just when it did, and while he Was in consultation with Mr. Hylton, gave a strange, dark complexion to the whole affair. But the most siibstantial of all these matters was that founded on the facts which had been witnessed from the sea on the night of the mm'der: two meii, no one could conjecture who, seen running along the shore, as for their lives, in a direc tion from the wood. What was the inference ] No one thought of the possibility that these two might have been ac- complices of Ayliffe ; but they were given credit for having been the sole pei-petrators of the appalling murder of Lord Alk- mond. Then, upon all this doubt and mystery was brought to bear the excellent character which poor Ayliffe had ever borne — perfectly irreproachable till thus accused — of a generous, affec- tionate, obliging nature — oh — thought all — 'twas impossible that he could be a murderer ! Then thought they of the father ! the wife ! the child ! Oh ! how this last was hugged and kissed. NOW AND T U E N. 233 all unconscious of the cause of such accumulated endearments — that Sunday afternoon, by the good weeping womanfolk of the village ! With what pity and awe was regarded the shut-up cottage of the Ayliffes, on which were written, in their eyes, desolation ! and teri'or ! and injustice ! And, indeed, this dismal and mysterious affair had obtained notoriety, not only thi-ough- out the county, and those adjoining it, but the whole kingdom. The murder of the son and heir of a peer of the realm — and that one so powerful and eminent as the Earl of Milverstoke — might well, indeed, be regarded as an incident of national in- terest and importance. The fortnight's respit had awakened universal curiosity and apprehension, lest from any cause there should be an unhappy miscarriage of justice — by the escape of the guilty, or the sacri- fice of the innocent. The authorities of the county were pre- pared for the attendance of a prodigious concourse on the ensu- ing morning to witness the execution of one, either most terri- bly and ineparably wronged, or the most cowardly and bloody of murderers. Prudent precautions were taken, under theso circumstances, to preserve the public peace. Many special constables were sworn in ; every turnkey in the prison was armed, and their numbers were doubled. A strong party of soldiers, both horse and foot, was ordered to be in attendance, the former under the command of Captain Lutteridge (who heartily wished that he had been in another part of the coun- try), and to march into the open space in the center of the pris- on, at a very ^arly hour in the morning. All this had been deemed necessary by the high sheriff as a matter of precaution, in consequence of certain intimations which had been conveyed to him of its not being improbable that a rescue rnight be attempted, as had been the case, under less exciting circumstances, only a half a year before, in another part of the kingdom, where a man was executed who, being at the time believed, was afterward proved, to have been quite innocent of the crime for which he died. At seven o'clock on Monday morning, Mr. Hylton, pale and harassed, made his appearance at the chief gate of the prison, on horseback: having, not vwthout some difficulty, got through the tjirong of persons pouring down to the jail, in front of which — a sickening spectacle — stood the expectant scaffold, already surrounded by a great and continually increasing crowd- though the brief work of death was not appointed to take place 234 NOW AND T H K N. before nine o'clock. When Mr. Hylton had ridden within the gates, and before he had dismounted, his eye fell on Captain Lutteridge, who, while a servant held his horse, was walking slowly to and fro with folded arms before the soldiers. His features were stem and gloomy, and he returned Mr. Hylton's hasty and soTiewhat agitated salutation in silence. It was a calm, bright spring morning ; the hedges and trees which Mr. Hylton had passed were all beginning to put on their glistening verdure, and the birds hopping and fluttering about, free as the air, and chirping and singing merrily. Mr. Hylton had sighed only the more heavily for observing them. He found the chaplain robed and waiting for him, as they had appointed, and, after taking each of them a glass of wine that stood in readiness, Mr. Hylton, without having spoken more than a word or two, followed the chaplain to the condemned cell, where, shortly after their arrival, the sacrament was to be administered. The door stood open — three turnkeys being near it, on the outside, each with his blunderbuss; and Mr. Hylton's knees trembled beneath him, and he felt deadly faint at the first glance he got of the occupants of the cell — father and son silently locked in each other's arms; not a word had they been heard to speak for nearly half an hour. "Do not — do not disturb them ; I can not go in," whispered Mr. Hylton; and they both withdrew, returning to the room which they had quitted. The chaplain spoke not to him, nor he to the chaplain for some time. "But that my word is given to this poor soul, I could almost pray to be disabled from witnessing this appalling scene," at length said Mr. Hylton. " Courage, courage, my dear brother !" replied the chaplain ; " the voice of duty calls you hither ; you shall now see such piety and virtue, in trouble, and in death, too, as shall forever hallow this morning's scene in your recollection. I have my- self been on my knees and in tears, beseeching God Almighty that the lesson I am this morning learning may be written on my heart till it cease to beat ! and that He would give me forti- tude fittingly to discharge my sacred duties. Be not appre- hensive; our charge is subdued into an awful calmness, and has inquired after you with serenity almost approaching to cheerfulness. There is with him at this moment a visible an- rel! But now let us return," said the chaplain, obsemng that r. Hylton had recovered his composure. M: NOW AND THEN. 235 " All is in readiness for the last sacred rite of our religion !" Again they went on their solemn errand. "Adam, my friend," said the chaplain gently, on entering the cell, " here comes he whom you have asked for — Mr. Hylton !" The old man and his son were still locked in one another's arms, which, however, on the chaplain speaking, were slowly unloosed ; and two such countenances presently looked on Mr. Hylton, silently taking his seat beside them, as filled him with fear and reverence. Tearless were the eyes of both, but there was immortality in their expression, a heavenly radiance on their solemn and wasted features. Neither father nor son spoke, as they gazed calmly at Mr. Hylton, who, as he grasped a hand of each, felt them to be cold as -death : but there was no tremor in them. After a few mo- ments they again slowly folded their arms round each other. " Speak, Adam, tell these good gentlemen what God hath done, for thee ! Speak, my son, for thy God ! Hath he not taken all fear of death from thee V said at length the old man in a low tone, but with great firmness. " He hath ! and I know it is He that hath done it, of his un- speakable mercy !" replied his son, who, leaning forward, kissed his father's white hair with gentle fondness and rev- erence. "Here is my only son ; God gave him to me, and hath allowed us many years of love together. He is now taking him back again ! I shall stay a little time after thee, Adam, only a little, and assuredly we meet again !" " The blessing of the ever-merciful God be upon you, Adam, upon you both," said Mr. Hylton. The prisoner slowly raised to his lips Mr. Hylton's hand, and kissed it. "I thank you, sir, for coming as you promised! But — I can not speak much," said he, with an air of infinite sweetness. "Oh ! what love and pity you have ever shown me !" Here the chaplain made a sign to Mr. Hylton that all was in readiness for the sacrament, which was thereupon administered with an awful solemnity. When it was over, " How much longer hath he to live V in- quired the father, as soon as he had risen from his knees, and kissed the forehead of his son. He spoke to the under-sherifi", who had joined with them in the sublime ceremony which was just over. 23G NOW AND THEN. " One hour and a half — or only a very few minutes more," he replied, looking sadly at his watch. " May my son and I pass that hour alone V inquired the old man : and added, turning to his son, "Adam, wouldst thou not rather that we spend this our last hour together, with no eye on us but that of God ]" "Yes, I would," replied the prisoner, calmly; "but, oh! re- memier /" said he, turning toward Mr. Hylton, and fixing on him an eye of mysterious expression. "I do ! I will !" replied Mr. Hylton ; " at the hour's close, I will, with Grod's permission, again be with you, and remain !" On this the prisoner grasped his hand with silent energy. "We will now leave you," said the under-sheriff, "for exact- ly one hour; and then it will be necessary for you to quit this room for another ;" by which he meant the press-room, where the prisoner's irons were tp be knocked off. All then withdrew, and the cell-door was closed and lacked. Word was from time to time brought to Mr. Hylton and the chaplain, during that hour, that the occupants of the cell were engaged in almost constant prayer. The chaplain's room, in which they were sitting, together with the under-sheriff, over- looked the yard where the military stood ; and shortly after they had entered this room, the vrindow being open, Mr. Hyl- ton overheard the stern, peremptory voice of Captain Lutteridge say a few words to the mounted dragoons, which were followed by the sounds of remounting. When the noise thus occasioned was over, both Mr. Hylton and the chaplain distinctly heard the confused hum as of a great multitude, apparently close to them ; and such was indeed the fact : the governor taking occasion, as time wore on, to come into their room and inform them that the concourse without was beyond all measure the greatest that he or any one else in the prison had ever seen collected together; but, he added, that the road through which they should have to pass to the fatal spot was very short, railed off, and guarded by a strong body of constables. "And though we think it right to be prepared," he added, glancing toward the window, significantly, " at present there has been not the slightest gi-ound for apprehending any sort of disturbance." Mr. Hylton took the opportunity of the gov- ernor leaving the room, to speak alone with the under-sheriff on a subject which sickened him as he mentioned it. NOW AND THEN. 237 " Must every portion — every portion of the sentence be car- ried into literal efFect, Mr. Under-Sheriff ]" "Certainly, sir; certainly," he replied with a surprised air; but added, quietly, " Oh ! you mean, I dare say, whether the body must be given up to be dissected 1" Mr. Hylton nodded in silence. "Assuredly; quite a matter of course, reverend sir, how- ever painful to the friends or survivors. It is a part of the sen- tence, and can on no account be dispensed with. Not," he whispered, " if I may say it between us, that if very great in- terest were made, more than a nominal — " Here the prison bell began to toll — oh ! dismal, dismal sound ! and the under-sheriff ceased, took out his watch, and, observing the hour, withdrew in silence. In a few minutes' time Mr. Hyl- ton and the sheriff heard a clanking sound, as of one passing their door in fetters ; and immediately afterward the chaplain mformed him that the prisoner was going to the press-room, where his irons were to be removed, and then the final prepa- rations would be made. " Poor soul ! he will now soon be out of his misery ! said the chaplain: and as he spoke, a turnkey came silently, motioning them to follow him. Mr. Hylton, with a beating heart, accompanied the chaplain into the chamber, where, as he entered, he saw a turnkey in the act of knocking off the prisoner's irons. Ayliffe stood erect, his eyes fixed upward, and his lips firmly compressed together; while his father, with both his arms grasping one of the pris- oner's, buried his head so that it could not be seen. The tolling of the bell, at intervals, had an almost palsying efFect upon the shaken nerves of Mr. Hylton. There was a petrifying silence for a few moments, as soon as the irons had been removed from the prisoner ; and with suddenly averted eyes Mr. Hylton then observed approaching the prisoner one whose ghastly office was but too manifest. But at that moment a hasty step was heard entering the room ; and turning round, Mr. Hylton observed the governor of the jail, with a face blanched by emotion of some sort, rapidly beckon to the under-sheriff, who instantly quitted the room. " I devoutly hope," whispered the chaplain, with evident agi- tation, " that this is no riot or attempted rescue !" They both turned round; and Mr. Hylton quitted the room. In a few seconds afterward he lost all sense of what was going '238 NOW AND THEN. on, and staggered unconsciously into the arms of the governor, as the latter uttered the words — " A reprieve ! Positively ! A reprieve !" The under-sheriff, vi^ith cool self-possession, though with hu- manity, stepped instantly back to the press-room ; and without entering, locked the dotir, and then went to ascertain, beyond aii doubt, how the fact really was. That something extraordinary had happened was evident. Outside was a prodigious commotion; inside were Captain Lut- teridge and his dragoons, sword in hand, ready to charge at an instant's notice : but, thank God ! there was no necessity for theii services. A confused cry some few minutes before had been heard from the extremity of the crowd, which stretched round a large building so as to be unable to catch any view of what was going on at the jail ; but on turning the other way they be- held a startling sight : a post-chaise and four, with a horseman riding beside it, all at full gallop ; and inside the chaise was a man waving something white. "Stop! stop! — stop the execution ! A reprieve! a reprieve!" was shouted by both the person inside the chaise and the horse- man without. The cry was instantly caught, and presently an unusual thundering sound was heard from the crowd, echoing the word, " Reprieve ! reprieve ! reprieve !" Round the outskirts of the crowd was in a twinkling seen dashing along toward the back of the jail, where stood the chief entrance, the post-chaise and its accompanying horseman, each of whom bore a precious document, even under the sign- manual, both having been separately dispatcl^d from London, to prevent all possibility of accident ; and just eighteen minutes before the prison clock struck nine, the two authoritative acts of mercy were in the hands of those to whom they^were address- ed — the representative of the high sheriff and the governor of the jail. Ay, there had been no miscarrying — there was no mistake. The swords, carbines, and muskets of the expectant soldiery were not, thank G-od ! to be turned upon the vast honest-hearted English crowd which stood outside, shouting, till their voices were well-nigh cracked, " Hurrah ! hurrah ! God save the king !" On hearing all this. Captain Lutteridge hastily dismounted, and got sight of one of the documents which had viovp^ '^ NOW AND THEN. 239 pi'odigious potency. He quietly read it all over, and then some- what quickly returned to the yard and mounted his horse. " My lads," said he, addressing the soldiers, " hearken to me, do you see. His majesty the king, whose servants we are, hath been pleased to reprieve the prisoner, of his own good will and royal pleasure ; whereupon, my lads, we may by and by return to our quarters, and in your hearts you may say, ' Long live King George !' — though that, doubtless, you do always ; for you serve the best and the greatest king on earth, that is certain." The captain was even meditating for a moment an extrava- gance, viz., to give his men leave to shout " God save the king;" but discipline and a sense of dignity repressed any such exu- berant manifestation of enthusiasm ; he looked, however, at their pleased faces with great inward satisfaction ; and a smile nearly stole over his grave, rigid features, as he said to himself, " Those lads of mine are good lads, and methinks I know one that will make another of them, that I've long had my eye on. Piff ! pafF! If I can only catch hold of this man, Ayliffe, I'll have him pretty quickly clapped on horseback, and in the ranks — and a better trooper than he will make is not to be seen. I'll warrant me he'll do a trifle of good service for his most merciful majesty." But the captain was here reckoning without his host. It was true that a pardon had amved for AylifFe, but only a con- ditional one, and that condition was, transportation to the col- onies for life ! When the astounding news of his deliverance was communi- cated to him whom they suddenly snatched out of the gaping jaws of death, the hangman had just completed pinioning the prisoner's hands. " Loose those cords," said the under-sheriff, as calmly as he could ; and, holding in his hand the document on which he was acting, he approached AylifFe, and said, " Adam Ayliffe, his majesty the king hath sent thee a pardon under his own sign- manual, on condition that thou be transported for life. God save the king : so thou well mayest say." The prisoner staggered back for some paces before the cords could be loosened from his arms, as ordered by the sheriff. " Come, lad! come, come !" quoth the executionei-, "take it steadily — take it quietly, lad — thou'st plenty of time to think on't, I assure thee, both here and elsewhere." But Ayliffe still staggered back, with the appearance of one *