If he gives way to his passions now, what will
he do when he is older and stronger, and has
more dangerous weapons in his power?"

So did this artful monster—making the "attempt
on his safety" an excuse for fresh and
copious applications to sherry—inflame the
case against me. That awful day long remained
in my memory. There were passionate
tears, bursts of weeping, over this profligate
wretch. The halter was again dangled before me.
A premature and disgraceful end on a public
scaffold, was assumed as certain. In the darkness
of my cell, I shrank and cowered from the
dreadful prospect. The memory of that day's
work was always kept green by frequent allusion
to the day "when you threw the knife at
Mr. Bickers." An obviously unfair garbling
and inflaming of the whole transaction!

II. JOHN MANBY.

AN important member of our household, and
a remarkable person in his way, was an elderly
sort of major domo—he was scarcely butler—
always seen in decent black, and who went by
the name of John Manby. Every one knew
"John," or soon came to know him, for he had
been in the family, according to that
indefinite measure of length "man and boy,"
for some forty or fifty years. He was more
like a retired schoolmaster than a domestic,
for he always wore a white high neckerchief
of the Lord Melbourne or Canning model, a
great bunch of gold seals at the end of a flat chain,
and a silver watch that was always accurate,
and went in surprising conformity with a remote
post-office clock. He was proud when
an appeal was made to this instrument, though
he had to raise it to the surface with infinite
pains from the "fob" by a process almost like
engineering. His phrase always was, "A half
after two"—an expression peculiar to himself;
or, in a more vague form, "better than half-
past two." A man much above the common;
had seen the world; had made a voyage or two
to Buenos Ayres, where he had been offered
posts of trust, which he had declined; had
lived much in France, and could speak French
of a certain sort. This reputation gave him a
grave and possessed manner. Sometimes he
would relate fragments of his eventful life in a
graphic way that was peculiar to him, especially
that voyage in the "Bay o' Biskey," when he,
with the other passengers, was "lashed" to
the mast (he revelled in that nautical word,
and would not accept "tied" on any terms)—
was lashed to the mast, and "the waves now
would mount—ay, just for-ty-five thousand
times the hoigth of that house there!" Then
"away they'd go from anunder us, and down
we'd go just forty-five times the depth of that
pillar there." He had curious recollections of
Bath, Cheltenham, and fashionable places of
that sort, then in the heyday of their
reputation, and of exploits of the late Colonel
Berkeley, whose failings he evidently regarded
with fond extenuation on the score of "the
beyewtifullest carriage-and-four you ever saw!
the noblest long-tails! and he himself on the
box driving, with the two little tigers behind,
the creatures!" His French adventures were
no less entertaining in the "Shangs Eleesay"
and other delightful places of resort. In his
sage moments he would air his French. "Wee,
meshoo! Allay ongho," and the like. Visitors
of that country he received with many bows
and courtesies, always complimenting them bv
addressing them in what he considered their
own tongue. "Resty, madame, le sally toot
sweet;" at which the amazed foreigners, rather
proud of their own broken English, would stare
haughtily. Long after, when this retainer
attended the family to that bright and sunny
land, half professionally, half because he wished
for change of scene, as the steamer touched the
pier, and the crowd of fisherwomen, whose
privilege it is to deal with the luggage, came on
board, a stream of old forgotten French poured
back on him, and he was seen struggling with
these singular creatures, battling for his trunks,
and addressing them in spasmodic "Lessy,
lessy! Cumsee, cumsa! Wee, wee! Metty toot
sweet!" invitations put aside, I fear, as one
would the harmless cachinations of a Carribee.
At home stranger visitors would be often taken
aback by the overpowering cordiality of his
greeting. "O, you're welcome fifty thousand
times, ma'am, no less. Walk in! 'Tis them
that will be glad to see you. O, you must step
in and rest yourself!" Others who might have
known him in some previous state, recalled
themselves good naturedly. "Glad to see you
looking so well, John. Just the same as ten
years ago." "Well may you wear yourself
then, and indeed the same can be said of you.
Indeed, I am glad to see yourself, sir, and well
you are looking!" After this mutual and delightful
recognition, it was a little mortifying
for the guest at the drawing-room to find John
returning with a confidential and secret air, as
if he was paying a compliment: "Who shall I
say, sir, for I don't rightly mind me of your
name?" Of any hypocrisy in the transaction
John was utterly unconscious.

Between him and the governess raged the
hostility that was natural. He would be heard
amusing himself, taking off what it must
be confessed was her rather hyper-cockney
accent. Sometimes unpleasant conflicts would
take place between them, in which the poor
lady's position placed her at a disadvantage.
He was admirable in the execution of all his
duties, and had the same conscientiousness and
pride in having his plate clean and all his
things in the most perfect order as a coachman
in the condition of his horse. He was always
contriving new arrangements, carpentering,
nailing, &c., to make things " tidy"—a favourite
word of his—and "something like"—his highest
commendation. He encouraged the same spirit
above stairs, and gave us short and sometimes
severe lectures on our disorderly arrangements.
This "was scandalous, so it was! Everything
rookum-rakum, up and down. Wait until
tomorrow, next day, and see how it would be