be the drawing-room door, and instinctively
half closed it behind me as I had found it.
Then I glanced wildly round the bare empty
room in search of shelter.

There was not a particle of furniture in the
room, and it was quite empty except for some
apples on the floor, and a few empty hampers and
sacks at the further end. How could I hide?

I heard the footsteps crossing the hall, and
then, as they came nearer, with the feeling of
desperation I sped noiselessly across the room,
laid down flat behind the hampers, and, as the
door opened, threw an empty sack over me. I
felt I must be discovered, for my head was totally
uncovered; and I watched them fascinated,
breathless from intense terror. They walked
to the window, saying, " We shall see better
here," and looked out, presently all exclaiming
together, " He's coming now; that black spot
over there;" and, without glancing in my direction,
they left the room again. I was safe, but
what could I do to save the farmer? Surely
Charlie must be coming with help now, but
would he be in time? / must try and save
him, was the conviction that impressed itself
upon me in a lightning thought, and as it crossed
my brain I sprang to the window. All thought
of self vanished then with the urgency of what
I had to do. I was only eager—nervously,
frantically eager—to save the farmer's life.

They say that mad people can do things which
seem impossible to sane ones, and I must have
been quite mad with terror and fright for the
next few minutes.

Seven feet below me, stretching down the
slope of the hill, was the garden, now lying in
long ploughed ridges, with the frozen snow on
the top of each of them, and at the bottom of
the garden was a stone wall four feet high.
Beyond this, as far as the eye could reach, extended
the snow-covered fields, and coining along the
cart road to the left was Mr. Johnson in his gig.

I threw open the window, making noise enough
to alarm the men if they heard it, and sprang on
to the window-ledge, and then, tearing off my
jacket, threw it on the ground, and, shutting my
eyes, jumped down. The high jump hurt my
wrists and uncovered feet dreadfully, but I dare
not stop a moment. I rushed down the garden,
tumbling two or three times in my progress, and,
when I came to the wall, scrambled over it
head-foremost. The farmer was just opening the
gate of the field I was in, and I made straight
towards him, trying to call out. But I could
not utter a word; so I flew across the snow,
dashed through the brook, careless that the
bridge was a few feet further down, and when I
rushed up to Mr. Johnson's side, I could only
throw up my arms and shriek out " Murder!"
just as a loud report rang out through the frosty
air, and I fell forward on my face.

"And were you hurt ':" I asked, as she
paused.

"Yes, a little. Look, here is the scar;" and
she raised the flowing fold of tarletane from her
soft white arm, and pointed to a white
oval-shaped scar. "I was ill for several weeks
afterwards, but Dr. B. said it was from fright,
not from the shot. They told me subsequently,
that just as I must have reached the farmer, the
men Charlie had fetched entered the farm-yard
at the other side, and took the murderers
unawares; but one of them, who was behind a tree
near the other gate, had just caught sight of me,
and had fired in revenge, and they said that if I
had not thrown my arms forward, I should
perhaps have been killed."

"And Mrs. Johnson?" I asked.

The girl's face became very grave.

"She was quite dead. The men had put her
under the dresser, which explains why I did not
see her as I passed through the kitchen, and
the poor husband went away directly afterwards.
The whole house is uninhabited now. Nobody
will live there, and of course it is said fo be
haunted. I have never been there since that day,
and I think I shall never dare to go there again."

The girl stopped, for the gentlemen had just
come in from the dining-room, and one, tall and
black bearded, who had been pointed out to me
by my hostess as the Squire of Stapleford, and
Cicely Miles's betrothed, now came up to her, and
laying his hand on her white shoulder with an
air of possession, said tenderly,

"What makes you look so flushed, Cissy?
Have you been transgressing again?"

"Yes, Robert. Mrs. Saunders asked me to
tell Mr. Dacre," she answered.

"And you will be ill for a week in consequence.
I shall ask Mr. Dacre to write the story,
to save another repetition of it. You know we
wish you to forget all about it, dearest."

"It was too horrible for that," she said, simply.
And then the squire turned to me and made
the request, of which this tale is the fufilment.

   Now ready, THE EXTRA CHRISTMAS DOUBLE
                     NUMBER, entitled
                DOCTOR MARIGOLD'S
                     PRESCRIPTIONS.
         I,   TO BE TAKEN IMMEDIATELY,
        II.   NOT TO UE TAKEN AT BED-TIME.
        III.  TO BE TAKEN AT THE DINNER-TABLE
       IV.  NOT TO BE TAKES FOR GRANTED.
        V.  TO BE TAKEN IN WATER.
       VI.  TO BE TAKES WITH A GRAIN OF SALT.
      VII.  TO BE TAKEN AND TRIED.
     VIII.  TO BE TAKEN FOR LIFE.
            Price Fourpence, stitched in a cover.

COMPLETION OF MR, CHARLES DICKENS'S NEW
                                 WORK.
            Now ready, in 2 vols., price 22s.,
                OUR MUTUAL FRIEND.
    With 40 Illustrations by MARCUS STONE.
London: CHAPMAN and HALL, 193, Piccadilly.

No. 351, for January 13, 1866, will contain the commencement
            of a New Serial Novel, entitled
         THE SECOND MRS. TILLOTSON.
   BY THE AUTHOR OF " NEVER FORGOTTEN," &c.
  To be continued from week to week until completed.