square. During the meal a letter, bearing the
police official seal, was delivered to him. The
colonel read it with a serious look, but not till
later in the evening did he communicate the
contents to the officers present. It seemed that
the authorities had been warned of the
probability of a meeting of the chief promoters of
discontent, at some spot near Brighton, and,
fearing that the ordinary civil force might
prove insufficient to effect the capture, the
magistrates requested that a small military
detachment might be held in readiness to act
in case of need.

The colonel supplemented his information by
issuing the necessary directions, and added
that he should himself sleep in barracks that
night, although, for the next two hours at
least, he must unavoidably be absent.

"Perhaps," he added, smiling, as he threw
on a cloak and lit his cigar, "I may bring back
some information of the enemy's movements.
I am not going into the town."

"Permit me, sir," said the young adjutant,
"to recommend you not to go entirely
unarmed. Your face is known, and if these
lurking rascals are in earnest——–"

"Well, well; lend me your pistols, Baird,"
said the colonel, and, thrusting them into his
pocket, walked away.

The clock struck eleven as the sentry at the
gate saw the colonel suddenly quit the high
road, and strike across the rising grounds in
rear of the barracks.

Another event of some interest had signalised
this especial evening, the ninth of May, at
Brighton. That admirable comedian, Mr.
L., had wound up a starring engagement of
six nights, with a benefit that attracted
nearly all the play-going world of that gay
watering-place. He had acted in three pieces
with unsurpassable humour, marked, however,
as the night drew on, with a haste and excitement
unusual with him, and which did not
escape the notice of his fellow-performers. He
was perpetually glancing at his watch; fell
into quite a passion at a trifling delay between
the second and last pieces; ordered a fly to be
in waiting at the stage-door, and, the moment
the curtain fell (it was then full half-past
eleven), threw himself, dressed as he was, into
the vehicle, and, calling out "Patcham! quick!"
drove furiously away, disregarding the very
treasurer, who, with his hands full of notes and
gold, stood prepared to settle accounts with the
fortunate star, in order that the latter might
start, as he proposed, early on the morrow.

The traveller who passes old Brighton
church, and, crossing the top of the hill, takes
a by-path on the right, leading in the direction
of Patcham, would, thirty years ago, have
traced the windings of a very pretty rural lane,
bordered on the one hand by beech and chesnut
trees, on the other by a high bank, beyond
which corn-fields stretched away in the direction
of the Dyke downs. Half way down the
lane, the path, widening for a few yards, left
room for a rude seat, which was under the
immediate shelter and protection of two large
beech-trees, so precisely similar in shape and
size, as to have imparted to the path in
question the title of Twin-Tree-lane. It was, at
the time of which we speak, a sequestered place
enough, and was approachable alike from the
high road through Patcham, and from that
which crosses the Old Church-hill.

It was a few minutes only short of midnight,
on the eventful ninth of May, that a lady,
muffled in a cloak and hood, stopped her
carriage at the entrance of Patcham, and, desiring
the driver to await her return, struck across
the fields to the left. The night was fair and
still; with occasional bursts of radiance, as
the moon struggled from one blue-black cloud-
bank to another.

Whenever this occurred the lonely wanderer
strained her eyes to the utmost, as if in search
of some receding object, but seemingly in vain.

At last she paused, and gave a sudden sniff.

"Thank heaven!" she exclaimed, clasping
her hands in real thankfulness. "That is his
pipe! I should know it among a thousand. He
must be close before me."

In effect, she fancied she could discern her
husband's form not far in advance, and,
shrinking closer into the shadow of the hedge,
she continued to follow him. At the mouth of
what was apparently a wooded lane the guiding
shape suddenly disappeared! Mrs. Horsfall
hurried forward, and, pausing to listen, thought
she could now hear both the step and voice
of her husband. He was passing up the lane,
evidently with one or more persons, but with
little thought of danger, for she heard his frank
laugh ring through the quiet air.

"If they should have betrayed him into
some ambush!" thought the anxious wife. "He
is so unsuspecting!"

The party a-head seemed to make a sudden
halt. Instinctively, Mrs. Horsfall shrank
toward the border of trees, and, in doing so,
almost came in contact with a man who was
stepping from them. Fortunately, she did not
cry out, and the manner, unmistakably gentlemanly,
in which the stranger tendered his
apologies, at once disarmed her fears. He
looked at her, however, with a little astonishment,
hesitated, then, as if a thought had
struck him, said:

"Is it possible, pray forgive me, that we
are here on a similar errand? My name is
Lileham, Charles Lileham, a minister of the
church."

"Mine is Horsfall," said the lady, quickly.
"I—I am in some anxiety about my husband,
who is just before us, in company with I know
not what dangerous and desperate men. O,
what shall we do?"

"For the inoffensive character of one, at
least, of his companions, I am prepared to
answer," said the young clergyman, with a
smile. "It is the Bishop of L., my uncle."

"The bishop!"

"Of his business here at this hour, I am as
completely ignorant as you apparently are of
Mr. Horsfall's. I fear I am transgressing his
wishes in following him thus closely."