female specimen of humanity-indeed, he knows me too well to venture on doing that. Old goose, indeed!-talons, indeed!" shrieked Miss Maria, holding up her hands with fingers bent in a way which again made Lieutenant Sparks spring nimbly across the witness-box. "I tell you the whole is a forgery-a base forgery-part of a plot formed by that abominable swindling vagabond and that misguided wretched little minx, my niece. I insist on his being sent to prison forthwith, and, if there is law in England, he shall rue the day he ventured to play me such a trick; and my miserable niece, I insist on having her restored to my tender guardianship."

"No-no-no! If my husband is carried off to prison, I will go with him!" cried Clara, clinging to the prisoner's arm. "I don't care what his name is and what he is, I'll not have him ill treated. If he is Captain Chamberlaine, I am Mrs. Chamberlaine, and it's my belief that that letter is written by Uncle Thornton, though he has been practising rather too severely on my simplicity; but I hope that it will be the last romantic act that I shall ever commit in my life."

"Bravo, little girl-bravo!" shouted a voice from the farther end of the court; but it was drowned by Miss Maria's exclamation of "Let me see the document; if it's a forgery, I'll treat it as it deserves!" Her gestures showed that the letter would fare badly if it once got into her hands. The magistrate, therefore, would not let it go out of his hands, but held it up before her. The lady's sight being none of the best, and as she disdained the use of glasses, she was compelled to stoop forward towards the paper.

"Of course-of course! It is as utterly unlike the general's handwriting as are the expressions made use of with regard to me to the terms in which he invariably speaks of me.”

"Oh no, marm, I assure you that you are mistaken," said Barbara, coming forward with mock simplicity. "I happened to pick up one of the last letters the general wrote to Miss Clara that was, and in it he called you his old sister Maria, and said you were a good old goose, and that she mustn't mind your nonsense, but just bear it till he came home; indeed he did, marm.'

"Quit my service!" exclaimed Miss Thornton, majestically.

"I've quitted it already, marm," said Barbara, curtseying. "I've a husband to look after me. I'm Mrs. Summers now."

"And I hopes to have one as soon as the bands is called," exclaimed Betty. "So, marm, I gives you warning this day."

66

Begone, girl-vixen!" cried poor Miss Maria, indignantly.

"Silence in the court!" exclaimed the magistrate.

"Hear me, sir," said Clara. "I amsorry to have to say it, but

I can bear evidence to the truth of the statement made by the last witness."

"You are that gentleman's wife, and your evidence cannot be taken. There is an evident animus in the assertions of Miss Thornton's late maid-servant, and as she certainly had no business to read any letter from General Thornton, she may have been mistaken, or fabricated the story. I feel it, therefore, my duty to commit the prisoner for trial. And, sir," he added, addressing the unfortunate bridegroom, "you should understand that the crime you have committed is of a very serious character,

and may lead to consequences most painful and humiliating to yourself. Constables, remove the prisoner."

"If that's the way things are going, we won't allow anything of the sort," cried Summers, turning to the Syren's crew, who crowded the farther end of the court. "On, lads, and rescue the captain!"

With a loud cheer, which made the magistrate and his clerk jump from their seats, the seamen sprang towards the dock.

"Lieutenant Sparks, assist me in maintaining the majesty of the law," cried the magistrate.

"Yes, if you've a particle of spirit in you, don't let that impertinent puppy escape," exclaimed Miss Maria, giving him a shove which nearly sent him on his nose.

"Come, come, things are going rather too far," cried a stout old gentleman, stepping forward, followed by two or three others. "I am General Thornton; my friends here will prove my identity. I wrote that note to my young friend Charley Chamberlaine, giving him full permission to marry my ward and niece, Clara Mowbray, which it seems he did this morning, rather sooner than I expected. Come here, little girl, and give your old uncle a buss, and now go back to your husband and cherish him, for he deserves a good wife, and I hope that wisdom will come with age, as it has in the case of your venerable aunt. Beg pardon, Maria. Come, come, don't be hard-hearted, old girl. I didn't intend to offend you, for I never thought that you would see or hear of my letters. However, it's a lesson not to write about anybody what one does not wish to be seen. You'll pardon me—that's all right. You must come and preside at a wedding breakfast I have ordered at the Crown, and I hope all the gentlemen present, who are blessed with wives and daughters, will bring them to it as soon as possible. Lieutenant Sparks, will you lead off your intended? for, as I hear, you aspire to my sister's hand.”

"True, I did, general, but it is an honour which, for ten sharp reasons, I must decline," said the lieutenant, bowing.

"Oh, treachery of mankind! I should like to have your eyes out!" exclaimed the aged maiden. "You base deceiver."

"Come along, good folks-come along," cried the general. "Summers, you and your wife are to look after the breakfast in the servants'hall; with the crews of the cutter and the yachts you'll have no lack of guests, andd on't forget to drink the health of the gallant captain and his bride."

"There's one case more, general, which can be quickly disposed of," said the magistrate. "A man-supposed to be a servant-taken in a cart, with boxes full of plate and other valuables. Very suspicious circumstance. Bring forward the prisoner."

"What, my perfect butler, Grimes! Can I believe my eyes ?" exclaimed Miss Maria.

"The Thornton crest, at all events," cried the general. "A clear case. Commit the rogue and get it over, or the breakfast will be spoiled."

"Then I've lost all faith and confidence in the honour and honesty of mankind in general, and especially of my own once perfect household," exclaimed Miss Maria. 66 My niece runs away from me-my lady's- maid tricks me my butler robs me-my housemaid deserts me-my only

brother talks of my talons, and calls me a curious female specimen of humanity. You know you did, Jack; and oh, Lieutenant Sparks, you base deceiver!" And the lady burst into tears.

"Come, come, she's got a heart, or something like it, and a swingeing big fortune compared to a lieutenant's half-pay, and if I can but manage to kill the cat in time, it'll do," said Sparks to himself. Then once more drawing near to the lady, he added, "I don't mind boarding an enemy, or fighting my ship against any odds, but I never could see a woman in tears and not try to dry them. Come, old girl, just swab up those pearly drops and I'll splice you off-hand, if you can get the general's consent. "Oh yes, by all means, my good fellow. Take her, Sparks—take her," cried the general, warmly. "You'll marry him, Maria? If you don't, you'll never get another, you may be sure of that."

"My too-too tender heart yields to his urgent solicitations," answered Miss Maria, putting out her hand. "Oh, Sparks, you well-nigh

broke it!"

"It has

"Tell that to the marines," observed the general, aside. stood a good number of severer shocks than this last, I can answer for it. Very well, Sparks, my future brother-in-law, that is settled, and Betty -if that's your name-just go back and dust the house, and you can marry the sea-cook at the same time that your mistress marries his master. Barbara Sims, you are disposed of, I understand?"

“Yes, sir. But Summers is my name, and in future I intend only to wait on my husband, and be an obedient wife to him," answered Barbara, with a curtsey.

"And now my little niece, let me tell you that though you are not exactly a Corsair's Bride, you have married as fine a fellow as ever headed a charge or stormed a battery, and I hope that you'll make him a loving and obedient wife," said the general.

66

I hope so, uncle, for I have grown wiser already since the morning, and as I suspect all that has occurred will, somehow or other, get into print, I wish it distinctly to be understood that I strongly advise all young ladies by no means to follow my silly example, and if they have a fancy to marry, to wait quietly at home till a father, or uncle, or brother, is ready to give them away," said Clara.

"I'll echo my young bride's opinion, that the girl who runs away does the silliest of acts, and that in nine cases out of ten the man is a scoundrel who tempts her. As I had my friend's authority, I may plead extenuating circumstances in my own case, but I was very nearly getting into a serious difficulty in consequence; and I say also, to all whom it may concern, don't follow my example," said Captain Chamberlaine, making a bow to the magistrate as he led his bride out of the court.

"It is the first plot I ever concocted, and it will be my last," cried the general. "However, all's well that ends well; and so, cheer lads, cheer, for the worthy upholder of the majesty of the law, and one cheer more for the Corsair's Bride."

The old court-house rang with the loud huzzas which broke from the throats of the seamen, and the whole party invited hurried off to regale themselves at the feast provided by the jovial old general's liberality.

THE FOREST OF FONTAINEBLEAU.

WHEN a poor fellow is tied by the wrist to stony-hearted London, and the incessant claims of newspaper and periodical work leave him no speedy prospect of an excursion, it is certainly disagreeable, to use a mild term, to have Dick, Tom, and Harry, call in at his chambers, just to bid him good-by, and tantalise him by an account of all the pleasures they anticipate during their continental trip. Such, unhappily, is my case, and, in self-defence, I take up the pen to describe to my readers a delicious villegiatura which I enjoyed a year or two back in the forest of Fontainebleau. The next best thing to packing up one's portmanteau, and setting off by the earliest mail train, is to think over the happy days one spent when the fates were kinder and editors more indulgent.

The great beauty of the forest is, that it is generally left to solitude. Its gorges and rocky valleys, its glades and waterfalls, possess no special charm for the swarm of bedizened, star-spangled, gold-laced courtiers, who settle down like a swarm of locusts on Fontainebleau, whenever their imperial majesties take up their summer residence there for a couple of weeks or months; but they leave the forest, with all its glorious beauties, to.the admirers of nature. Moreover, they are so grand and fine, that they willingly content themselves with the English garden, the park, and the flower terraces. Only two or three chasses, which are regularly held when the court is at Fontainebleau, form a transient exception, and then the scene changes. Barking-dogs, hunting-horns, stamping, snorting horses, gun-shots, and cannon signals; the shouts and cries of the beaters and piqueurs, the rising smoke of the various open-air kitchens, laughter and quiet drinking-bouts, blind flute-players and fiddlers, and yelling mobs of boys. But when the evening mist settles down on the landscape, all disappear and are silent, and on the next morning the forest is again calm and solitary. The birds twitter their thousand-throated chorus, the woodpecker taps on the trees, the wood-pigeons cluck, the hawk and the falcon croak their hoarse cry in the pure sky, squirrels and rabbits timidly venture forth, because they do not quite trust the tranquillity after the uproar of the preceding day; the sun shines hotly, coloured butterflies sport about the glades, and glistening dragon-flies flash across the swamps. At such a time the forest is itself again, and seems only to desire one thing, in which we heartily join, that it may be left at peace for a long time. Its true and real foes-the foresters, with their assistants and woodcutters are certainly moving constantly about under the tall trees, and many a noble stem is marked with the inevitable red cross. the deadly axe of the workman resounds far and wide through the silence, and awakes the echo of the surrounding rocks.

Then

Strangers who visit Paris rarely go to Fontainebleau, the English excepted, who, with their instinctive admiration of natural beauties, have read either at home, or somewhere en route, that a trip to Fontainebleau well repays the trouble, for it is certainly a journey. You must always calculate on two or three days, if you wish to see, though only hurriedly, everything that is worthy of inspection.

I will say nothing about the château on this occasion, although

during my last visit the imperial court had again migrated to Fontainebleau. On such occasions the tall bearskin shakos stand everywhere behind the railings, and any persons who enter are anxiously examined, and have to pass through two or three hands before they are admitted to the sanctuary. The emperor-popular though he is called, and perhaps believes himself to be-has not yet ventured to do one thing which all the French kings before him did-leave the gates and doors of his palaces open, so that any one who pleases may go in and out. In this he follows the example of his uncle, who also secluded himself, and always had iron railings and files of soldiers between himself and his "faithful people." All the sentries at the château have loaded muskets, and if you express your surprise at it, you receive the simple answer that tradition will have it so; but it has no further significance. This explanation, of course, does not prevent a man from entertaining his own opinion on the matter. Fontainebleau itself, like Versailles, a slow, dead town, is naturally metamorphosed, as if by an enchanter's wand, immediately on the arrival of the court; but this change is so forced and unnatural that it does not at all produce a cheering effect. It certainly looks as if a slice of the Bois de Boulogne, or of the Champs Elysées, had been put down in the long, broad, main street of the town, for so many equipages, general officers of the Guards, and smartly dressed ladies and gentlemen, may be seen hurrying about. But all proceed to the château, without looking to the right or left, or taking the slightest notice of the inhabitants, who, like all provincials, run with hasty curiosity to their doors and windows on hearing the sound of a passing carriage or galloping horse. The handsome and numerous hotels are also nearly all empty, for strangers and visitors from the surrounding departments always defer their visit till the departure of their majesties, as it is not till then that the park and château are thrown open to the public.

Hence we shall lose and omit nothing if we turn our back on the town, the château, and all the rest (even their majesties), and at once drive out into the forest, say to Franchard or Barbizon, in order to find a delicious miniature representation of Saxon Switzerland, or the Hartz Mountains. This double comparison appears to me to be very characteristic of the interesting and peculiar nature of the great forest of Fontainebleau, which really thus becomes a geological curiosity. The department of the Seine and Marne, in which Fontainebleau is situated, is flat, and level as a plate; only here and there gentle elevations border the bed of the Seine, which flows with the most varied windings through meadows and corn-fields a pleasant, but simple and modest scene. Small towns and villages are everywhere scattered about the landscape; at times, too, the lofty chimney of a factory-at least in the direction of Paris-as well as larger and smaller villas, and a busier life generally, announce the vicinity of the mighty capital. The engines of the Lyons and Marseilles Railway the largest in France-are constantly dashing past, and impart to the scene the necessary element of modern life.

But Fontainebleau with its forest is an entirely different world. If it did not sound profane, we might be inclined to say that Nature, after forming the Vosges, the Jura, and the Pyrenees, deposited on the banks of the Seine the rest of her rocks and mountains, so strange, and, to a certain extent, inexplicable appears the phenomenon. The whole ex