"Tremewen Grange' was an old-fashioned country house, which, without having the slightest pretensions to grandeur, had about it an air of comfort and solidity. Solidity, indeed, was very necessary, considering its bleak and exposed situation. It lay in a hollow of the cliffs, protected in some degree from the severity of the westerly gales by a plantation of stunted oak-trees, whose gnarled and withered branches attested their long resistance to the fierce ocean blasts. The interior of the house was bright and cheerful, and had that habitable look so rarely to be met with in modern houses, as if it reflected the happiness of those who lived in it. Altogether, it formed a strange contrast to the wildness and desolation around. "There was only one thing to which the most fault-finding person could object; this was the insuperable dislike of Mrs. Tremewen to smoking in the house. This may appear to you a very trifling drawback: to me (as an inveterate smoker) it was no small grievance. In all other respects she was a most charming woman, and my friend everything that was hospitable and kind. 666 Alice will not allow any smoking in the house, as you know,' said my friend to me, the first night of my arrival; therefore I have built a retreat for myself and my friends, where we can smoke in peace; but now that I am kept in such subjection, I only indulge in one cigar after breakfast.' "He then led the way through the garden and plantation to a small kind of building or hut, which commanded an extensive view of the sea, which now lay before us glittering in the bright cold moonlight of an evening towards the latter end of October. On one side was a door, opening on the cliffs, through which a narrow pathway led down to the rugged sands. "After this, I need not tell you I paid many a solitary visit to this retreat, and always the last thing at night, for at that time I imagined I could not sleep without my accustomed sedative. I had now prolonged my visit three weeks, and we had arrived at the beginning of an unusually wild and dreary November. There had already been one shipwreck on the coast, and many an hour had we watched with anxious eyes from the windows of the hut vessels driven before the gale, seeking shelter from the violence of the storm, fearing every moment that they would be dashed by the fury of the waves among those giant rocks which, in spite of their height, were now often completely hidden from our sight by dense masses of foam. "One morning, as we were all sitting at breakfast, my friend received a letter on busi ness which required his immediate presence in town. After he had finished its perusal, he turned to me and said: "I shall have to leave Alice in your charge during my absence, and I hope you will take good care of her, and' (he continued, smiling) should any wrecks occur whilst I am away, do not allow her to run down the cliffs in the middle of the night, as she once attempted to do, thinking she might be of some use.' "He left us the same morning, promising not to be absent many days. That afternoon the weather, which had been heavy and lowering during the few preceding weeks, was at last broken up and disturbed by violent gusts of wind, accompanied by frequent hailstorms. Towards night it grew to be a storm, and the sea rolled in upon the shore-the great waves breaking far outside, and mist and foam darkening the sky. When all had retired for the night, I lighted my lantern, and went, as usual, through the plantation towards the hut, but found it difficult work to battle against the wind. I at last reached my destination. On three sides of the building were windows, one opening towards the sea. I sat down in my accustomed seat, and listened to the hoarse roar of the mighty waves beating against the cliffs. I had been sitting thus about twenty minutes when it suddenly occurred to me that the lantern, which I had placed on the table opposite the window, might possibly deceive some unhappy vessel, and so lead her to destruction. The scene was cer tainly a desolate one. Within the room, hanging on the walls, were sad relics of many a gallant ship which had gone down, and whose crews had never survived to tell the dreadful tale, fragments of wreck, figureheads, and other ghastly memorials bearing witness to the merciless nature of that fearful coast. As these thoughts passed through my mind I extinguished the light, and was left in utter darkness. "There was no moon, no light save the occasional glimmer of a solitary star as the heavy clouds swept across the sky, and the reflection from the white mass of foam surging beneath me. I tried to shake off the uncomfortable feelings which, in spite of myself, would steal over me. I am not nervous or over-imaginative, as you well know; but I could not withstand the dreary influence of the place. The moaning sound of the wind and the hollow roar of the sea as it thundered against the cliffs sounded in my ears like signals of distress. I had been sitting thus, dreamily smoking, for about half an hour, when I became conscious, between the pauses of the hurricane, of a heavy sound of dripping water, rode to our nearest neighbour's, the clergyman of the parish, a kind, benevolent old man, who being strongly imbued with Cornish superstitions, listened with great interest to my recital. After a long discussion we went together to the spot, wishing to examine the place where the light disappeared. too near and too distinct to be confounded with the roar of the sea. The wind, as I said before, was blowing furiously at the time, but the sound struck on my ear, not above but through all. At the same time a cold chill seemed to pervade the room, and suddenly I distinctly saw, as though pressed against the window, a human face. That face I can never "I felt somewhat ashamed of myself while forget: blue and death-like, the eyes fixed viewing the scene in broad daylight, and inand ghastly, and the face bruised and livid, clined to doubt my fearful impressions of the and yet illumined by an inward light. I preceding night. turned faint with horror, as I felt I was in the presence of the supernatural. Yet my eyes were still riveted by a species of fascination on the dreadful sight. It gave me the idea of a face that had been under water swollen and disfigured. My eye was also attracted by a glittering object which appeared to be suspended from the neck by a scarlet handkerchief. A second and a third time was that face presented to my view, an unearthly light always shining through and around it; then it gradually disappeared. "A few moments passed, during which I was utterly powerless; then my immediate impulse was to get up and fling the door wide open. At first I could distinguish nothing; but as I gazed longer into the darkness, I saw, where the horrible figure had disappeared, a flickering light shrouded in vapour, now but a few inches above the ground, and then gradually increasing to the height of a human figure. It seemed to float in the air with a peculiar rustling sound, like that of dead leaves when disturbed by the wind. "I felt impelled by a power above my own control to follow the apparition, and climbing the low fence, which separated the grounds from the cliffs, kept it in sight as it hovered before me, up to the very verge of the cliffs. Over these I still watched until it grew paler and more indistinct, and at last disappeared behind a large rock, which was called by the country people, 'The Devil's Stone.' I re turned home agitated and bathed in a cold perspiration. That night was indeed a terrible night for me; each moment I dreaded the reappearance of that face, and the sound of the dripping water. Every horrible circumstance was so distinctly photographed upon my mind, that the whole scene was constantly before me, and I vainly tried to sleep. The morning at length broke to my intense relief, and I arose feeling faint and worn, but determined if I could to discover the cause of this midnight visitation. "I said nothing on the subject to Mrs. Tremewen when we met at breakfast, although, remarking my haggard expression, she asked if I was ill.' I left the house as early as possible, and "The storm had abated, and all around looked fresh and brilliant with that peculiar brightness which is often observed after any violent disturbance of the elements. It appeared as if Nature was trying to make amends by her smiles for the terror of but a few hours before. On reaching the beach we observed several people near the rock, to all appearance intently gazing at some object upon the sands. "As it was unusual to see so many gathered together on that lonely shore, we hastened towards the group, and heard that the body of a sailor had just been found, washed in close to the Devil's Stone.' I felt strangely overcome at this confirmation of the horrors of the past night, and unable to look upon the disfigured form that I knew lay before me, lest I should again behold what was so painfully impressed upon my imagination; but, with a strong effort, I at last forced my way through the crowd, and saw, lying at my feet, a fearfully mutilated corpse, in every respect resembling the form I had so lately seen. By the initials marked upon the arm in sailor-fashion, and by the silver watch, which he had evidently knotted round his neck with his handkerchief just before the vessel sunk, the body was recognised as that of a young man belonging to a neighbouring parish, who had left about eighteen months before for India, and was returning by a homewardbound vessel to his friends. "It became the sorrowful duty of Mr. Harding, as clergyman of the parish, to inform his widowed mother of the loss of her only son, but I did not add to her grief by telling her of the more painful circumstances attending his death. You will ask what could have been the reason of this appearance to me, an utter stranger? I can only say it must for ever remain one of those mysteries we cannot fathom, and as such you must be content to take it. Perhaps as long as the body remained unburied the spirit haunted the lonely shore where he had so often wandered in his youth. Be that as it may, the apparition did not again return to me, neither did I ever hear of its appearance to others. Of the ship in which the poor young fellow was lost nothing was ever heard. A few planks and a figure-head, with the name of the vessel, washed on the beach, were all that was ever known of its fate. It must have perished on its homeward voyage not far from its destination, in one of those frightful gales which had made many a home desolate. "I did not, as you may suppose, after this resume my nightly visits to the smokingroom, and soon after bade 'adieu' to the Cornish coast, I cannot say with much regret. I have often since then met the Tremewens,' but have never been induced to revisit Tremewen Grange.'" M. A. THE TWO CADETS. A Story in Two Chapters. CHAPTER II. THERE was a general cackle and shriek throughout the colony. The Sentinel, in its leader, pointed out that here was an active police magistrate, a scion of the British aristocracy, in the full possession of health and strength, set on by a gang of ruffians in broad daylight, and held to ransom. It demanded whether or no one had not better live in Spain or the south of Italy, than in a country like theirs, nominally free, and with all the vast power of the British empire at its back; and then clearly traced the whole accident to the levelling tendencies of the party who wished for cheap land. The Mohawk replied by saying that he agreed with the Sentinel that Spain, Italy, or even South Carolina was a better country to live in than Australia as long as eight hundred men were allowed to keep a million acres desolate for their own selfish purposes, and that the thing never would have happened had the lands been unlocked before, and a population of British hearts and hands been allowed to form themselves into self-defensive communities, at every point where soil and communication offered an opportunity. The Mohawk, after an intense and almost frantic manifesto of loyalty to the British crown,-and I do not think that any one is more intensely loyal to the present dynasty than your thorough-going colonial radical,-went on to say that he could not see that the fact of this individual inspector being a scion of the British aristocracy made much difference in the case. The British aristocracy had a good notion of taking care of themselves. Let this man's aristocratic friends ransom him. The Mohawk was never inclined to come down hard on a man who had got in a mess; but he could not help saying that, considering what the Honourable Edward Hornby had done for the colony, and looking at his private character, the figure set on his head by the bushrangers was considerably over the market price. So the Sentinel and Mohawk made political capital out of this accident. But the government were dreadfully puzzled. Lionel, who, in spite of oblivion, strongly disliked his cousin, rode to town and urged action on the colonial secretary and the governor. He told them at once that they need never ask the council for the money; that he would pay the sum five times over out of his own pocket to release his cousin. He urged them to action on that basis, but the governor and the colonial secretary "hung in the wind," and showed a great hesitation in "going about." "He is perfectly safe," said his excellency; "you yourself, my dear Lionel, would never play out a solitary trump without a single court card in your hand. The bushrangers have got a poor hand and one trump; they will never play it until they are forced." And the secretary said in the ante-room, "We will try to deal with them for you, only the freepardon business must be dropped. I know how fond you are of your cousin, and how deeply attached your cousin is to you. I have heard him speak of you. I perfectly well know the relations between you, and see how generously and high-mindedly you are acting. But I wish your cousin was a more respectable man. We may get him back, but the devil himself will never put his accounts right. You really must wait." "Are his accounts seriously wrong?" asked Lionel. "Over four hundred pounds," answered the secretary, sadly. "He is a mauvais sujet. He will lose his appointment, I fear; and he is so brutal, so wild, and so fierce, that he is getting unfit for decent society. Lionel, I am sorry to say so to My dear cousin is a ruffian." you, but your "Now, I'll tell you what I will do with you," said Lionel to the colonial secretary (prime minister), "if you will get him back I will pay his ransom and set his accounts right. Will you do the other half for me, and give these pardons? "I honestly don't think that we will. You heard the governor say that he was quite safe. Can his excellency err? Go along! go along!" So they hesitated in action, and meanwhile noises and rumours went on full swing. The Sentinel, "shut up" by the unanswerable Mohawk, was daily pathetic about the scion of the oldest and most respectable aristocracy in Europe. The Mohawk aired the British aristocracy also, denying, however, both their antiquity and their respectability, and attributing the whole accident to the want of cheap save one- -the man he called the murderer; the man who had tried to shoot his colonel at Gibraltar. This man was reserved. This man knew something. He would meet Lionel's eye freely enough, but in a very inquiring way. Lionel saw that this man's expression was interrogatory, and that the in I am sorry to say that he liked this ruffian. If you have ever tried the lonely bush for yourself for a few years, and would afterwards honestly confess to us all about the uncommonly queer people whom you have to like in that beautiful but unutterably melancholy solitude, you would tell us a most interesting story. I remember, for instance, a man called Wills-originally, I believe, from Pentonville on his good behaviour-who was a very pleasant companion, and taught me first how to crack a stock-whip. He was a very pleasant companion. That gentleman has now, I am given to understand, produced such an additional complication in his dealings with civilised society that the only view he can get of one of our noble colonial prisons is from the inside. But he was not bad company. Lionel's friend, the would-be murderer, was I am sorry to say, the most trustworthy man about the place. The others all lied; this man, ruffian as he was, never did that. land (by no means a bad argument, mind), and to the refusal of that universal suffrage, which they got a few years after, and which, leaving them nothing to fight for, reduced the sale of their paper by one-half. On one point over this singular accident they had, what their younger gentlemen would have called "a mutual field of generous rivalry; "terrogation was, "How much do you know?” that is to say, in "sensation" paragraphs. When the Sentinel was informed, by one of our greatest stock-dealers, whom it was superfluous to name, just arrived in the course of business from the Edwards (meaning, I believe, little Goby), that "Our missing inspector" had been tied naked, hand and foot, and alive, on an ants' nest, and had been then and there bitten and stung to death by those ferocious crustaceans, with which we are all familiar on our domestic hearths; when the Sentinel came out with this piece of blague the Mohawk was promptly down on them with another. "The old lady of Castlereagh Street (we need not say that we allude to our respected contemporary the Sentinel) is, as usual, entirely in error about the sad fate of 'our missing inspector.' An intelligent native king (King Tapto, of Shepherd's Crossing,) has just come into our office, after having witnessed the expiring agonies of the scion of British aristocracy. His majesty was attired in his usual court costume of a blue coat and brass buttons, and, with the exception of the Government brass plate on the pit of his stomach, had no other clothing of any sort or kind whatever. He says that he saw Inspector Hornby burnt alive with iron bark chips on the fifth of last month; in which case the pismire story of the Sentinel falls to the ground utterly. And, although we will not yield in loyalty to our dear old lady the Sentinel, yet he is hardly in a position to deny all due respect to royal utterances. His majesty King Tapto's demand for tobacco was promptly answered by one of our young gentlemen. His demand for brandy was referred to our editor, now out of town." Before all this "chaff" had died away, Edward Hornby came back to town, ragged and footsore, in a red shirt and moleskin trousers, and resumed his position as policeinspector. His cousin Lionel, through the instrumentality of the colonial secretary, had his affairs put right, and in such a way that Edward never knew who had done it. All that Edward ever said about the matter was that the bushrangers were kind to him, and that he had escaped, but was never safe until he got near town. Lionel went back to his station. His people were glad to see him again, and there seemed to be no arrière-pensée about any of them, I should hesitate to say this if I did not know that I was speaking the truth. If I was generalising I would not say what I have said; but having my man and my facts before me I am safe. This man watched Lionel about everywhere, in the wool-shed, in the sheep-yards, in the stable, and his look always said one thing-"How much do you know?" At last they spoke. Some sheep were lost in the scrubby ranges, the hunting-grounds of Lionel, after a gale from the south-west, and Lionel took this man with him on horse back. When they were alone together, Lionel said: "You have something to say to me, Jordan. I have seen it in your eyes for days." And Jordan said "I have nothing to ask of you save one thing-how much do you know? "About what ? " "Well, you are a gentleman, and would not have me murdered; and there is no one to hear us but the parrots, and they won't peach, though they can talk. About this bushranger captain ?" "He is alive and well. Beyond that I know nothing of him." "That will do. Don't say a word more. But mind this, governor. I am the only real old hand you have round you; and I went |