fixedness which is so often the first emotion
at any shocking catastrophe,—  and sometimes
the only one, till any further effort is too
late.

Raven was inside the mill; his hand was
almost upon " the gripe," when he was thrown
to the ground with a heavy fall. A large
bundle of rakes, such as haymakers use, lay
exactly across the path from the mill-door to
the gripe.

He felt a crash, and he heard a short snap,
as of something breaking, but he suffered no
pain, except a bruise or two. He looked—  his
wooden leg was broken by the fall. " Thank
God," said he, " the other one is whole; I
shall save him yet! " And then, whether by
hopping or crawling, or by walking on all-
threes for want of all-fours, he never could
afterwards tell, he reached the gripe, and
seized it with the grasp of victory.

In spite of his terrors, his excited hopes,
and his stunning accident, he yet had presence
of mind enough not to check the motion of
the machinery too suddenly,lest the friendly
aid should prove, by its jerk, as fatal as the
uncontrolled whirling by the winds. He also
afterwards related, that in the midst of that
intense stretch of his mental faculties, when
he felt to his inmost nerve, that the least
moment then was of more consequence than
a month at other times, he could not help
indulging in a passing laugh, for the minutest
fraction of a second, at the sight of his broken
wooden leg, and his self-congratulation that
it was not the other limb. Thought may be
quick; emotion is sometimes even more rapid
in its transitions.

The dash had been successful. The mill-
people were officiously offering all sorts of
unnecessary assistance to aid Rudd in getting
safely down from "that bad eminence."
Raven breathed, deeply, regularly, like a man
in a tranquil sleep; for he felt sure that
Robert's life was saved. He stood upright,
leaning against some wood-work, and looked
around him, not that he expected to see
anything unusual, but rather to assure himself
that he was not actually in a dream. Some
way off he saw, first the cold glimmer from
a pair of eyes, and then the slight figure of a
man, not absolutely hiding himself, but retired
to the spot of deepest shade, and shrinking
into nothing—if such a process were possible
for material bodies.

"Who the devil are you? " said Raven;
"come here and show yourself."

"Your servant, sir," said Bammant (for
it was he), touching his hat, and advancing
with a plausible and half-confident air. " I
met with a bargain of rakes last market-day;
and as they come gain, I thought you might
like to have them for next haysill."

"You need not have laid them just in
the way," growled Raven, with forced calmness,
" to hinder any one from stopping the
mill." But as the other approached within
reach, " You villanous scamp!" he exclaimed,
losing all self-control, and seizing him by
the collar with a grasp from which there
was no escape. "I've thought for some
time you deserved hanging, and now I
know it."

"What can you prove? " said Bammant,
turning deadly pale, but with perfect self-
possession; " I didn't set the mill a-going.
Where's your witness?"

Rudd entered at that moment, and Jane
with him. One of his arms was round her
waist, and their hands were clasped. Raven,
seeing them, shifted his hold on Bammant to
his left hand, without setting him at liberty,
and offered his right to Robert, who shook
it long and heartily, without uttering one
word.

"Let him go," he said at last; " it is not
worth soiling your fingers by touching such
a wretch. Hell will be sure to have its own,
without our taking the trouble to punish
him."

"Let him go, indeed! " muttered Bammant,
with malicious spite; " it's all very well to
say let him go. But are people to be
assaulted in this way for nothing, and have
their characters taken away, I should like to
know? I'll take good care you shall pay
for this, Master Raven."

"Be off! " thundered Raven, in reply,
"without another syllable, unless you have
a mind to be put into the broad. I know the
men's fingers are itching to do it, and if you're
here a minute hence, they shall!"

The hint was taken; the baffled murderer
stole away looking like a fiend; and you
can guess all the rest of my story, as well as
if I were to spin it out for another hour.

THE BUSH WITH THE BLEEDING
BREAST.

[In Cornwall, as in the East, tlie names " Uncle"
and " Aunt " are not only titles of kindred, but words
of endearment and respect. So it was with an
impulse of love and honour, that the ancient Cornish
were wont to call the Virgin Mother, " Aunt Mary."!

Now, of all the trees by the King's highway,
Which do you love the best?
O! the one that is green upon Christmas Day,
The bush with the bleeding breast!
The holly, with her drops of blood for me,
For that is our dear Aunt Mary's Tree.

Its leaves are sweet with our Saviour's name,.
'Tis a plant that loves the poor;
Summer and Winter it shines the sam
Beside the cottage door.
O! the holly, with her drops of blood for me,
For that is our kind Aunt Mary's Tree.

'Tis a bush that the birds are loth to leave;
They sing in it all day long;
But sweetest of all, upon Christmas Eve,
Is to hear the robin's song.
'Tis the merriest sound upon earth and sea,
For it comes from our own Aunt Mary's Tree.