stopped the carriage and beckoned to a hackney
coach.

"God bless you, my love!" he cried, leaning
from the window; and, adding a word of direction
to the driver, was jolted away.

"Where did your master say, Robert?"
asked Mrs. Horsfall.

"Whyto'seller, Piccadilly, 'm," retorted
Robert, with a slight cough, meant to intimate
that travelling so early did not agree with him.

"I will alight here also," said Mrs.
Horsfall. "Let the carriage be put up for an
hour or two. You and Jacob get some breakfast,
then return home, and see that the
letters I have left be delivered immediately. I
shall not be back till to-morrow, with your
master. Call that coach."

"Piccadilly," was the direction she gave,
but, stopping the coach in a minute or two,
she asked the driver what was the White Horse
Cellar.

"Place wheer the Brighton coaches plies
from," was the answer.

"Drive to the Elephant and Castle," said
Mrs. Horsfall, "and be quick."

"Is there a Brighton coach abont to start?"
Mrs. Horsfall inquired, eagerly, as they
mingled with the mass of coaches which, at
that period, congregated round the well-known
hostel.

"Yes, 'm, the Age, in a moment;—one
inside?" telegraphed a porter to the Brighton
driver, who nodded.

Mrs. Horsfall was in her place in a moment,
and whisking along through Tooting, half an
hour ahead of her husband, supposing, indeed,
he had taken that road. But she was far
from content with herself. Twenty times,
during the journey, she wished the step
untaken. As often she succeeded in persuading
herself that her disobedience was pardonable,
and preferable, whatever its consequence, to
the anxiety she would have had to endure; for
that her husband was bound on an expedition
of danger, she entertained no manner of
doubt.

It was a period of discontent, and much
uneasiness. From causes not necessary here to
recal, the working classes in several counties
had allowed themselves to be moved to serious
outrage. Incendiarism was the order of the
day, or night, and it was no uncommon thing
to see the horizon lit up in twenty places with
the fires that guilty hands had kindled. Everywhere
there was a vague apprehension of a
visit from the "mob," which noun of multitude
was supposed to be prowling about, burning
and pillaging the houses of the rich, and, in
more than one instance, justifying the fear.
Mrs. Horsfall trembled, as it occurred to her
that her husband's excursion was connected
with the repression of these disturbances.

She had resolved upon her course of action;
and, accordingly, quitted the coach at a small
hotel at the very entrance of Brighton, at
which most of the coaches halted for a moment.
Here she obtained an apartment facing the
road, and, shrouded in the curtains, set herself
to scrutinise the passengers of each vehicle, as
they successively arrived.

The vigil was tedious, but, at six o'clock, her
patience was rewarded. As the Red Rover
dashed up to the door, the familiar face was
discernible at the coachman's side.

Mrs. Horsfall had concluded that he would
certainly go on to Castle-square, and had
prepared herself to step into a fly, and follow. To
her astonishment, however, if not alarm, he
quietly descended, obtained his valise, and
entered the same modest hostel in which his
wife had already taken refuge.

In the course of the evening, Mrs. Horsfall,
by skilful inquiry, contrived to learn that the
magistrate had dined, by himself, in the coffee-
room, had subsequently smoked a cigar, and,
that finished, gone to the play!

"To the——–" Mrs. Horsfall had some
difficulty in checking her ejaculation of surprise.

But the gentleman would return at eleven;
only the porter was not to go to bed, as he was
going out again, and might be absent some
hours.

Mrs. Horsfall's heart gave a throb.

"That is it, then," she murmured, and sunk
into trembling meditation. In this condition
we must leave her, and repair to another part
of the country.

Doctor S., who at this time presided over
an important inland diocese, and was in the
prime of intellectual, if not physical life, was
a man who never spared himself in his Master's
service. It was therefore an unmistakable
token of overtaxed energies, when the bishop,
sinking into his chair on the evening of the
seventh of May, acknowledged that a brief
respite from labour would not be unacceptable
to him. His wife caught at the idea. For
the last few days, a sort of harassed look, not
habitual with him, had attracted her attention.
He wanted rest.

"How I wish, my dear," said Mrs. S.,
"that you could escape, if it were but for four
or five days, from all hard work! Now I
really think that, with the assistance you can
command, and——–"

"My dear, you anticipate my thought," the
good bishop replied. "Nothing would recruit
me more effectually than a fair three days' holiday,
exclusive of the travelling; a little
unfatiguing journey, some whither—say, towards
the sea. I ought, yes, certainly, I ought to do
it," he added, half to himself.

"That you ought!" exclaimed his wife,
triumphantly." I shall order William to
prepare your things, so that, if you please, we can
leave this very day."

"Gently, gently, my dear," said the bishop.
"'We!' nay, nay; I must not take all my
comforts with me, and expect to find health to
boot. It is enough that I find rest, and—and
change. I shall make my little expedition
entirely alone."

"Alone!" echoed Mrs. S. "My dear, I
shall be so nervous."

"On behalf of which of us, my love?"
inquired the bishop, laughing. "Come, come,