some coming horror seemed to have paralysed
all. The unfortunate lady noticed them the
last, and spoke with agitation to her companion,
who said,

"Don't be frightened — they are only coming
to frighten the children."

As they came nearer, she caught the girl's
arm, let it go again, and with a scream tried
to fly.

The unhappy woman had taken a few hurried
steps when her foot tripped, and she fell. It is
shocking to relate, that what followed took
place in presence of about a score of people
in full sight of the dwelling house on the hill.
The ruffians came up to her, and as she lay
at their feet, one discharged a pistol into her
ear; the other fired down into her head. They
then, as it was described, "went off at a slow
trot across the field," passed out of it, and were
never recognised again, in the dock or on the
scaffold.

The pitiful nephew had seen all this; but he
could not do more than shout "Aunt Jewel!
what's this?" He made a hesitating attempt to
come forward, more from instinct than anything
else; but one of the murderers now "leadless
pistols" pointed at him, checked his course,
and he turned and made off home by a
circuitous route.

The attorney was busy over his accounts
when he rushed in with the news. The former
started up, but the young man cried:

"Don't go out or you'll be shot — they are in
the field yet!"

"And you let her be shot!" said the other.

The attorney went down to the field where
she lay. Hideous sights met him there, one
man sobbing,

"Oh, sir, her head is off!"

What added to the strangely dramatic scene,
was the man of law going down on his knees
beside the body, lifting up his hands to Heaven,
and swearing that he would never rest till he
had revenged the murder. A sort of steward
followed his example, and made a similar
singular vow of vengeance. Strevans had now
come down again, and the attorney, looking at
him steadily as he rose from his knees, said,
"This was well planned."

The nephew was arrested; and so was
the attorney, much to his surprise.
Suspicion, however, more directly pointed to the
former, and certainly there were some strange
incidents to justify that suspicion. The
accounts were to be completed that day, and he
knew the result was against him. It was
believed that Mrs. Kelly was about to alter her
will, and cut him off with a small sum in hand
instead of a handsome provision in estates.
There was some anxiety in him that she
should come out on that fatal evening; and
he was also said to be eager that the attorney
should come also. It is but just to him to say,
that these facts and suspicions were mainly
founded on an information of his rival and
enemy, couched in excited terms and reading
more like a prosecutor's speech than a
simple statement. It was also thought to be a
bit of agrarian vengeance. The attorney,
however, was soon released; no further evidence
ever turned up; and the young man, after
being duly called up, assize after assize, to
renew his bail, was at last finally discharged.
But the matter was not over yet. No one can
rest under such an imputation, whether well or
ill founded, and he was driven to try and clear
himself in a court of law. The edifying
spectacle then followed of this pair, from
the witness-box, charging each other with the
murder of their patroness, of both being
cross-examined "severely" on that insinuation, and
of both failing to persuade their jury. The
attorney, now old and shattered, presented a
piteous spectacle as he was subjected to this
ordeal, with trembling head and hands and
voice, and abundant maudlin tears.

The bulk of the property of this luckless
woman passed to a doctor, who now enjoys it,
and could afford to offer five hundred pounds
reward for the discovery of the murderer. Such
is the account of this curious career, which
began so questionably and ended so dismally,
and from which, without an affectation of being
didactic, we may draw this moral, that the
acquisition of wealth by any other than the
regular slow and honourable means, brings
with it but little enjoyment. The possessor is
but a stranger in his own household, and
invites the interested attention of sharks and
harpies. This woman had to keep watch and
ward over her property, to guard it against
the very arts and attacks by which she herself
had won it. In the end, it seemed safer to
snatch it from her by bloody means. There is
something piteous almost in this story of one
who had fought a weary battle, from the slums
upwards, against schemers, knaves, relations,
and against law and lawyers, and in the end
was only beaten by the savage agency of the
pistol-bullet.

              SEWING MACHINES.

WE could fill a whole number of All the
Year Round with the claims of the French to
every modern scientific discovery. The last
claim, put forth by M. Henri de Parville, on
behalf of their invention of the sewing
machine, we should scarcely have noticed
here, but for the important remarks of that
able writer on the imperfection of the
implement as it stands.

First, in respect to the invention: It
appears that, about 1825, there lived at Saint
Etienne (a manufacturing town to the south-
west of Lyons) a poor wretch of a tailor noted
for his thriftlessness and eccentricity. So far
from his customers increasing, the few he
had dropped off one by one; which seemed
to trouble him very little. He was rarely to
be found at home on his board, and still more
rarely did he call for orders. In 1827 he was
held to have a bee in his bonnet, and in 1829
he went for downright crazy. This reputed
madman, Barthelerny Thimonnier, the son of