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visit. Tell Mr. Coates I will see him."

      "Mr. Coates! Mercy on us, my lady, it's not he. He'd never have intruded upon you unasked. No such thing. He knows his place too well. No, no; it's not Mr. Coates–"

      "If not he, who is it?"

      "Luke Bradley; your ladyship knows whom I mean."

      "He here—now?–"

      "Yes, my lady; and looking so fierce and strange, I was quite frightened to see him. He looked so like his—his–"

      "His father, you would say. Speak out."

      "No, my lady, his grandfather—old Sir Reginald. He's the very image of him. But had not your ladyship better ring the alarm-bell? and when he comes in, I'll run and fetch the servants—he's dangerous, I'm sure."

      "I have no fears of him. He will see me, you say–"

      "Ay, will!" exclaimed Luke, as he threw open the door, and shut it forcibly after him, striding towards Lady Rookwood, "nor abide longer delay."

      It was an instant or two ere Lady Rookwood, thus taken by surprise, could command speech. She fixed her eyes with a look of keen and angry inquiry upon the bold intruder, who, nothing daunted, confronted her glances with a gaze as stern and steadfast as her own.

      "Who are you, and what seek you?" exclaimed Lady Rookwood, after a brief pause, and, in spite of herself, her voice sounded tremulously. "What would you have, that you venture to appear before me at this season and in this fashion?"

      "I might have chosen a fitter opportunity," returned Luke, "were it needed. My business will not brook delay—you must be pleased to overlook this intrusion on your privacy, at a season of sorrow like the present. As to the fashion of my visit, you must be content to excuse it. I cannot help myself. I may amend hereafter. Who I am, you are able, I doubt not, to divine. What I seek, you shall hear, when this old woman has left the room, unless you would have a witness to a declaration that concerns you as nearly as myself."

      An indefinite feeling of apprehension had, from the first instant of Luke's entrance crossed Lady Rookwood's mind. She, however, answered, with some calmness:

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      1

      See the celebrated recipe for the Hand of Glory in "Les Secrets du Petit Albert."

      2

      The seven planets, so called by Mercurius Trismegistus.

      3

      Payne Knight, the scourge of Repton and his school, speaking of the license indulged in by the modern landscape-gardeners, thus vents his indignation:

      But here, once more, ye rural muses weep

      The ivy'd balustrade, and terrace steep;

      Walls, mellowed into harmony by time,

      On which fantastic creepers used to climb;

      While statues, labyrinths, and alleys pent

      Within their bounds, at least were innocent!—

      Our modern taste—alas!—no limit knows;

      O'er hill, o'er dale, through wood and field it flows;

      Spreading o'er all its unprolific spawn,

      In never-ending sheets of vapid lawn.

      The Landscape, a didactic Poem,

      addressed to Uvedale Price, Esq.

      4

      Mason's English Garden.

      5

      Cowley.

1

See the celebrated recipe for the Hand of Glory in "Les Secrets du Petit Albert."

2

The seven planets, so called by Mercurius Trismegistus.

3

Payne Knight, the scourge of Repton and his school, speaking of the license indulged in by the modern landscape-gardeners, thus vents his indignation:

But here, once more, ye rural muses weepThe ivy'd balustrade, and terrace steep;Walls, mellowed into harmony by time,On which fantastic creepers used to climb;While statues, labyrinths, and alleys pentWithin their bounds, at least were innocent!—Our modern taste—alas!—no limit knows;O'er hill, o'er dale, through wood and field it flows;Spreading o'er all its unprolific spawn,In never-ending sheets of vapid lawn.The Landscape, a didactic Poem,addressed to Uvedale Price, Esq.

4

Mason's English Garden.

5

Cowley.

6

Query, Damocles?—Printer's Devil.

7

James Hind—the "Prince of Prigs"—a royalist captain of some distinction, was hanged, drawn, and quartered, in 1652. Some good stories are told of him. He had the credit of robbing Cromwell, Bradshaw, and Peters. His discourse to Peters is particularly edifying.

8

See Du-Val's life by Doctor Pope, or Leigh Hunt's brilliant sketch of him in The Indicator.

9

We cannot say much in favor of this worthy, whose name was Thomas Simpson. The reason of his sobriquet does not appear. He was not particularly scrupulous as to his mode of appropriation. One of his sayings is, however, on record. He told a widow whom he robbed, "that the end of a woman's husband begins in tears, but the end of her tears is another husband." "Upon which," says his chronicler, "the gentlewoman gave him about fifty guineas."

10

Tom was a sprightly fellow, and carried his sprightliness to the gallows; for just before he was turned off he kicked Mr. Smith, the ordinary, and the hangman out of the cart—a piece of pleasantry which created, as may be supposed, no small sensation.

11

Many agreeable stories are related of Holloway. His career, however, closed with a murder. He contrived to break out of Newgate but returned to witness the trial of one of his associates; when, upon the attempt of a turnkey, one Richard Spurling, to seize him, Will knocked him on the head in the presence of the whole court. For this offence he suffered the extreme penalty of the law in 1712.

12

Wicks's adventures with Madame Toly are highly diverting. It was this hero—not Turpin, as has been erroneously stated—who stopped the celebrated Lord Mohun. Of Gettings and Grey, and "the five or six," the less said the better.

13

One of Jack's recorded mots. When a Bible was pressed upon his acceptance by Mr. Wagstaff, the chaplain, Jack refused it, saying, "that in his situation one file would be worth

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