founders were the Fowles of Riverhall. They
built a fine mansion in 1591, which still retains
traces of its former grandeur. King James
gave to William Fowle a grant of five warren
over his numerous manors and lands in
Wadhurst, Frant, Rotherfield, and Mayfield. The
fourth in descent and heir-male of this William
Fowle left Riverhall, and kept the turnpike-gate
in Wadhurst. His grandson, Nicholas Fowle,
a day-labourer, emigrated to America in 1839,
with his son John Fowle, a wheelwright, and a
numerous young family, carrying with them, as a
family relic, the royal grant of free warren given
to their ancestor.

This family, like many others, rose and fell
with the Sussex iron trade. Geologists say
there is still in this district more and finer iron-
ore than in many of the coal-fields of England;
but, when the art of using coal in smelting
instead of charcoal was discovered, it was found
to be cheaper. Without intending it, the coalminers
interposed to preserve the woods from
the destruction lamented by the poets. Drayton,
in his Polyolbion, made the trees denounce
the iron trade in the following strain:

Jove's oak, the warlike ash, vein'd elm, the
softer beech,
Short hazel, maple plain, light asp, the bending
wych,
Tough holly, and smooth birch must altogether
burn,
What should the builder serve, supplies the
forger's turn;
When under public good, base private gain takes
hold,
And we, poor woful woods, to ruin lastly sold.

The last of the Sussex furnaces, the property
of Lord Ashburnham, was blown out in 1825.
Bars of Sussex iron are now curiosities or relics.
The iron of the entrances to the new church
at Elsted was made at Ashburnham in one of
the last heats of the forge. A true Sussex
man feels a peculiar thrill of regret when he
passes the railings of St. Paul's in London;
and, the ores being plentiful in his native fields,
he may be excused for fancying that an
industry, which an improvement in metallurgy has
put down, a new discovery may any day raise
up again, and anthracite, or some other fuel,
enable Sussex again to supply iron for armies
or for fleets, for monuments or firesides.

A RENT IN A CLOUD.

IN TWENTY-FOUR CHAPTERS.

CHAPTER XIV: THE LAST WALK IN THE GARDEN.

THE only letter Calvert found at the post-
office for the villa was one in the vicar's hand,
addressed to Miss Grainger. Nothing from
Loyd himself, nor any newspaper. So far, then,
Loyd had kept his pledge. He awaited to see if
Calvert would obey his injunctions before he
proceeded to unmask him to his friends.

Calvert did not regard this reserve as
anything generous—he set it down simply to fear.
He said to himself, "The fellow dreads me; he
knows that it is never safe to push men of my
stamp to the wall; and he is wise enough to
apply the old adage, about leaving a bridge to
the retreating enemy. I shall have more difficulty
in silencing the women, however. It will
be a hard task to muzzle their curiosity; but I
must try some plan to effect it. Is that telegram
for me?" cried he, as a messenger hastened
hither and thither in search for some one.

"II Signor Grainger?"

"Yes, all right," said he, taking it. It was
in these few words.

"They find it can be done—make tracks.
"DRAYTON."

"They find it can be done," muttered he.
"Which means, it is legal to apprehend me.
Well, I supposed as much! I never reckoned
on immunity; and as to getting away, I'm readier
for it, and better provided too, than you think
for, Master Algernon. Indeed, I can't well say
what infatuation binds me to this spot, apart from
the peril that attends it. I don't know that I am
very much what is called in love with Florence,
though I'd certainly marry her if she'd have me;
but for that there are, what the lady novelists call,
'mixed motives,' and I rather suspect it is not
with any especial or exclusive regard for her
happiness that I'd enter into the holy bonds. I
should like to consult some competent authority
on the physiology of hatred—why it is that,
though scores of fellows have injured me deeply
in life, I never bore any, no, nor the whole of
them collectively, the ill will that I feel for that
man. He has taken towards me a tone that
none have ever dared to take. He menaces me!
Fifty have wronged: none have ever threatened
me. He who threatens, assumes to be your
master, to dictate the terms of his forbearance,
and to declare under what conditions he will
spare you. Now, Master Loyd, I can't say if
this be a part to suit your powers, but I know
well, the other is one which in no way is
adapted to mine. Nature has endowed me
with a variety of excellent qualities, but, somehow,
in the hurry of her benevolence, she forgot
patience! I suppose one can't have everything!"

While he thus mused and speculated, the boat
swept smoothly over the lake, and Onofrio, not
remarking the little attention Calvert vouchsafed
to him, went on talking of "I Grangeri" as the
most interesting subject he could think of. At
last Calvert's notice was drawn to his words
by hearing how the old lady had agreed to
take the villa for a year, with the power of
continuing to reside there longer if she were so
minded.

The compact had been made only the day
before, after Calvert had started for Milan,
evidently—to his thinking—showing that it had
been done w ith reference to something in Loyd's
last Ietter. "Strange that she did not consult me
upon it," thought he; "I who have been her
chief counsellor on everything. Perhaps the
lease of my confidence has expired. But how
does it matter? A few hours more, and all these
people shall be no more to me than that lazy
cloud that is hanging about the mountain-top.