And then, pursuing his wicked plan,
   (And, oh, with what vile intent!)
To the cottage of Massey, good peaceable man,
   The Bailiff his constables sent.

The man's surprise was, indeed, extreme,
    Though assured there could be no cause;
Their visit appear'd like a troublesome dream
    To him who ne'er broke the laws.

"My friend," said one, in a kindly tone,
   "Our errand I'll briefly state;—
In this cottage it seems not as yet to be known
   That the Bailiff has lost his plate.

"Throughout his mansion and grounds we sought;
   Not even a cup was seen;
And though to search here we a warrant have brought,
   We shall find nothing here, I ween."

He straightway went to the oaken chest,
   And lifted the unlock'd lid;
Then forward with wonder they every one press'd,
For under some raiment, the countryman's best,
   A rich silver cup was hid.

'Twas the great man's tankard, beyond mistake;
   His arms were engraven fair;
With a truthful look Massey solemnly spake,
"I pray that the Lord may my children forsake,
If I know how the cup came there!"

At the stately mansion the news they hear,
   That the tankard is found at last:
The Bailiff and guests at the cottage appear,—
   And now the plot ripens fast.

He orders Massey at once to jail,
   Right glad that he had the power;—
They who heard the poor wife and her little ones wail,
    Could never forget that hour.

And joy was seen in his eyes to shine,
   As he saw the good man depart;—
"The vergee of land shall surely be mine,"
   He said, in his wicked heart.

In her lonely cottage the mother kneels,
   The little ones round her cry;
She speaks not a word, for too keenly she feels;
   Her prayer is a deep-drawn sigh.

The cell held not the captive long,
   The Bailiff brook'd no delay;
He felt like a tiger, so savage, so strong,
Impatient to seize his prey.

The Court is summon'd, they meet in haste,
   The Bailiff as Judge presides;
Accused as a thief at the bar there is placed
   The man who in God confides.

The case is stated, and clear his guilt,
   So most in the Court believe,—
"Now prove thyself honest, or surely thou wilt
   Be hang'd—there is no reprieve."

"With the learned (said Massey) I argue not,
   To their skill I make no pretence;
But from childhood till now a good name I have got,
I cannot tell how the cup came in my cot;—
   And that is my sole defence."

"A poor defence!" was on many a tongue,
   "If Massey can say no more;
And guilty or not the poor man will be hung,
   And the sooner his pangs be o'er."

The Bailiff rises, to pass no doubt
   The sentence of shameful death,
When proceedings are stopp'd by a cry without;
Men, women, and children, unite in the shout,—
   In rushes a man out of breath.

He gasps awhile, he is faint and weak,
    And wondering they gather round;
His errand to learn they all eagerly seek,
Then faintly he utters, scarce able to speak,—
    "The plate of the Bailiff is found!"

Up rose the Judge with an angry frown
   (Yet his terror was great to see),
"That was not the stack which I bade them take down—
   What man has done this to me!"

On leaving home that important morn,
   He had given his men command
To remove from the threshers a large stack of corn
   To which he then waved his hand.

Which stack their master was pointing at,
   The men did not rightly know;—
In one was the plate, they began taking that;
   It was God who had order'd it so.

The Judge forgot that his words of ire
   Would surely himself condemn;
And no stronger proof did the Jurats* require,
   His guilt was quite clear to them.

* The twelve Jurats are chosen by the Members of the States.

Poor Massey his eyes was seen to raise
   With a grateful look to heaven;
No word did he speak, but acceptable praise
   To God from his heart was given.

"And now, good man, you may go in peace,
   No longer detain'd you are."
The Jurats are happy to give him release,
   And the Bailiff is placed at the bar.

That just and right in that ancient time
   Was the law of the Isle, we find:
He was sentenced to die for his terrible crime;
   The doom for Massey design'd.

FATHER GABRIEL'S STORY.

"You see my family had been farmers and
freeholders in the county for more than two
hundred years; but my father being a more
forward and colonial-like man than the rest of
his neighbours made a good bit of money. He
was fortunate enough to get some of Mr.
Collings's calves, the beginning of the
celebrated Durham breed, and to know their value
before other people did. Then a coal field being
found near his farm, and part of it wanted
for works, he was able to sell that for a good
price, and keeping our old house took a lot
of additional land as a tenant on the V——
estate. He held at last near a thousand acres,
and had all the benefit of war prices at an
easy rent. It was like coining money in
those days. We didn't set up to be gentlefolks
like some, but we kept on steadily.
There were ten of us, but as it happened, all
girls but me, and I was the youngest but two.
My elder sisters were married off quick, being
well-favoured lasses, as likewise well-portioned.