caverns under his very floors. Hark! isn't
there a sound of water under this room?"

"Was it to talk of things like that you
adjured me to grant an interview? It was
not thus in the days of old when the minstrel
struck his lyre!"

"It is the rushing of that detestable pond
down among the Inferiors. I must be off."

A hand was laid on his shoulder. He
thought it was in arrest of his departure
without settling for his rooms." I'll send you
the week's rent," he said, "when I get safely
to Ryme Legis; but in the meantime bolt's
the word."

"John," said the visitor; " will you break
off the last link of kindness that bound me
to thee?"

There was something in the voice that put
Mr. Plover into a cold perspiration. Yet
there was no harshness in the tone, and the
hand continued pressed upon his shoulder in
an amicable manner.

"Really, ma'am," he began; " there's
something so strange in this. I'll tell you what—
I'll call again to-morrow, but at this moment,
I feel, we're all on the brink of death."

"Sir! sir! " cried a voice from the front
garden." Escape while you can! There's a
crack in the main wall—the house is settling
down—it will never stop till it touches the
blue clay."

"D'ye hear that?" said Mr. Plover, casting
the hand from his shoulder. " For my sake
let us get out before we are buried!"

"lntombed within a living grave I'd live
or die with thee!" said the lady, laying hold
once more of Mr. Plover, and detaining him
by force. " You would not leave me to
perish? Save me, oh, save me! All will be
forgotten—the vows you swore and broke—
the presents you gave and reclaimed—the
meanness of that vulgar, cold-hearted jury
all, all, will be forgiven, and shall I leave
thee? never no!"

"The chimney-pots are coming off! " cried
the voice in the garden." The Boroo's
bedroom window is bulging out a yard—run,
run!"

Jack took the advice, shouldered his carpet
bag, flung open the door, broke away from his
detainer, and gained the garden in a moment.
The unfortunate landlord met him at the
porch.

"It's all right," he said in a whisper; " the
house is quite safe, but I think I shall
frighten away a bad tenant. I will get
the Boroo to give up possession before
daylight."

"She keeps a mighty tight hold," said Jack,
"of whatever she lays her hand on. I know
her of old. Only to think," he muttered, as
he pursued his way to Ryme Legis, "that
Juliana Summerset should try to make it up
again—as if I were fool enough to be caught
twice! " Just when he had reached the front
gate he heard a window violently thrown
open, and a voice shouting "Rise up, rise up,
Zarifa, and lay your golden cushion down, and
gaze on false Adelle!"

Half running, half walking, dripping with
water, trembling with fear, and in momentary
expectation of being overtaken by the Boroo
and the Tenth Muse he slipt and slopt and
tumbled and stumbled, all along the saturated
Blissford, and reached the railway station
just in time for the up-train at one o'clock in
the morning. It is thought Mr. Plover will
not be in a hurry again to leave the protection
of Jermyn Street and the Acropolis.
Club.

LOST AND FOUND IN THE GOLD
FIELDS.

News from the Diggings, at least that
kind of news that comes in letters, is so
perfectly contradictory that individuals with
minds as blank as sheets of white paper on
the subject of Australia are perfectly
bewildered. And no wonder. Captain
Marlinspike, who has been at sea for thirty-five
years—or, at least, thirty at sea, and barely
five on shore, married twelve years—having
established himself in Melbourne (in
consequence of the departure of his officers and
men for the Diggings and condemnation of his
barque, the Lively Leaker), where he is
driving a famous business as ships' husband
and general agent, writes home for his wife
and six children in raptures. He is making
money, eating fresh meat every day, and
does not think cabbages dear at eighteen
shillings a dozen. Bill Picker, who saved
money as a sub-contractor in the Crashington
Railway and went out with his "old woman"
and his "lot o' kids" in charge of a Gold
Mining Company's Establishment that broke
up the day of his landing, has been up to
Forest Creek with two old mates whom he
met accidentally in William's Town. They
have netted a clear nine hundred pounds
each in seven months, and he sends home a
description to his mother in Lincolnshire that
sets the whole parish, including the parson,
in a ferment. The same satisfactory
sensations are produced by the missives of the
miners from Pentofroy, near Penzance, who
have found their way from Chili to Port
Philip; even Lombard Street and Quality
Court, the bankers' and the lawyers' clerks,
have had evidence of good fortune under
sign and seal, of fellows who were thought
no great shakes in their respective capacities
at home. On the other hand, Mr. Softly, who
held a remarkably confidential and pleasant
situation as cashier to the great house of
Blouse and Broadbrim, and who used to
live at Islington—where his musical wife gave
pleasant parties and he was thought rather a
neat hand at a speech after supper—having
been smitten with a wild notion, compounded
of a villa at Richmond and a mine of gold in
his back garden, to be found in the
neighbourhood of Geelong after a fortnight's