and he gazed boldly, and almost calmly on her. "Yes, yes, I knew they told me wrongly," she continued, and she grasped his hand closely, and looked up to him as she spoke, raising, gradually raising her face, all bathed in tears, towards his; " My husband could never be the murderer!! ?? The lady hesitated, for attentively, though quite unconsciously, she had watched her husband's eye; she could not say another word, for, at once the conviction came over her mind, and settled there, that her husband had signed the death-warrant of his King. John Lisle had scarcely recovered from the feeling with which he had met his wife; it was a feeling nearly allied to the embarassment of guilt; he strove to master it; but vainly did his heart endeavour to enfold itself in reasonings and excuses, for a pang pierced through them all, like the remorse of guilt, and the deep and conscious crimson of shame came over his face.

Alice was too disturbed to speak, and Lisle took advantage of her agitation; he told her, haughtily, not to trouble her'self with concerns which were too deep for her to understand; he looked almost disdainfully on her, and turned away, as she cast on him an earnest and imploring look. Seizing a lamp from the table, he was about to leave the room-Then it was that his wife at once exerted herself, and sprung forward; she clasped his arm with both her hands, and spake in a resolute yet gentle voice: "Husband," she exclaimed, "stop, and hear me speak. You know that I have seldom interfered about these subjects before; I have trusted to your sense of duty, to your love to God and your country. I have prayed that our God would restrain and direct you; I have not spoken, because although I could not agree with you, I respected your intentions. Ah, even now," she continued, in a quick and tremulous voice, "I must beware, lest I exasperate you, by. urging in my weak and womanish manner what you will disdain to hear."-" And what I will not hear, madam," said he; "must I command you to be silent."-" Oh, my poor husband!" replied the lady, "first command into silence your own heart, and that I know you have not done at present, so let your wife speak with it: nay, I must not, cannot be repulsed. One question I must put to you; answer me one single question! Is the King condemned?"“ I make no answer to your question, madam."-" May God forgive you, you have told me enough," she added, as she stood before him, and raised her eyes almost unwillingly to his countenance. She paused awhile as she surveyed him, and then pointed with her trembling finger to his brow. "It is written there too plainly. You cannot deny your guilt," she said, solemnly. "Would to God you could deny it. No, no,

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husband; I must be heard," she continued, as he pushed away her up-raised hand, and would have passed from her. are led on; you are a dupe, Lisle, a dupe to cold-hearted and designing men." The colour mounted to his forehead, and he bit his lip with rage, as his wife spoke those last words. "Cease this trifling, I command you," he cried. "Dare, you to question the will of a nation. Go to your chamber, and be silent a woman should know her place."-"I will tell you what is trifling," she replied: "it is trifling with the judg ments of God, with the happiness of their souls, for men, (not a nation, oh no! not the nation, on my life ;) for men, calling themselves Christians, to sit down with a show of justice and godliness, and sign the death-warrant of their lord and King. For God's sake, stop at once, for your own sake; not because I implore you; no, all on your own account. Tell me not, that a woman has no right to speak. There's not a wife throughout all England but should feel this cause her own: the truest, kindest husband is condemned to death. There's not a child but should lift up its helpless hands, and ask mercy for such a father. Have we not been taught in the Bible to fear God; and shall we despise the commandment which follows next after, Honour the king?' This is no political duty, it is a private duty to every heart. Oh, my dear husband, there hath been a time when you were wont to give me all your confidence. I know it is long ago; to me it hath seemed very long. Methinks, at that time, our hearts were but as one in love and confidence; and when I leaned upon you thus, and gazed upon you, as I cannot, ah, you will not let me now! Then I have felt a calm and most assured happiness; because I knew, and I was not mistaken then, I am sure that I was not mistaken, that not a look of mine could be unheeded by you. Put down the lamp, and listen to me for a little while. Give me back but a brief shadow of those days. Oh! your hand trembles as I clasp it; do not turn away your face. Forgive me, for I cannot help weeping-my heart is full-and let me lean upon you as I do now. Oh, thank you, thank you for that look; I remember that dear look. You came to me, and looked upon me as you did, as you do now, when our firstborn child lay wailing in your arms. I then thought that I could never be more grateful for your love; yet it seemeth now far dearer to me. Think not, dearest, of my poor reasoning. I am a weak woman, and cannot speak on state politics; but I love you. Your honour, I should say your

soul, is dearer to me than life. I could not bear to think that the stain of innocent blood should be upon your soul. We nd no law in God's book which alloweth man to shed inno- VOL. II. PART I.

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cent blood. My husband, were you forsaken and in misery, I might not speak thus plainly. My voice should be the last to whisper shame upon you. I would bear the shame of guilt, (though guiltless myself,) and then rejoice to bear it for you insult and wretchedness I would welcome with you. I am sure you will believe me. But now you are in power, there are none to upbraid you to your face, therefore I will be a real friend, and warn you now, while there is time. Risk every thing, even to our lives, to save the King. He may be condemned; but you have much at your command. This crime must not be the torment of your future life; your sleep must not be visited by a murderer's dreams. Do not hesitate to save (I will not say the King) the man, the husband, and the father, like yourself. Think how I should bless the friend who rescued you from death. Think how your country will bless you. Think how your God will approve the deed. Husband, I have for this cause a fearless spirit. Let me go forth with you as a servant to assist in such an enterprise. I do "not talk idly; I have nerved myself to do what may be done by skill or boldness, or in any righteous way to save and serve the King." She was yet speaking, when a knocking was heard at the outer door of the house, and Lisle then recollected an engagement he had made with one of the repub-. lican party. Alice withdrew from the apartment, and ear, nestly besought her husband to adjoin with her but for a few minutes to her own closet. There, with many earnest entreaties, she pleaded with him, that he would seek without delay some means for the King's escape. A servant entered, and told his master, that the gentleman who awaited his appearance seemed in haste; whereupon Lisle grew impatient, and would have gone down instantly. "I would not take upon me," said his lady, "to prevent your waiting on that person; but something seemeth now to tell me, that if you do not now determine to befriend the royal cause, you never will. While your heart is softened, while I am with you, promise, not to me, but to the Lord, that you will not leave your King to die that shameful death, if your arm, if your best exertions, can save him." She knelt down at his feet, and took his hands with tender force, and with meek but solemn earnestness, she called upon God to turn her hus band's heart; and, rising up, she threw herself upon his bosom, and wept with artless grief. Lisle lifted up her head, and kissed her; but as Alice raised her eyes to his face, she saw no expression to encourage her hopes. She thought to say nothing more, but as he moved away she grasped his hand, and made but one request, which he then granted. He promised not to leave the house without seeing her again. When Lisle was gone down, his wife sat long in the abstrac

tion of deep and bitter thoughtfulness. The loud shutting of a door, sounding distinetly in the silence of the night, aroused her with a start. She opened her casement quickly, and thought that she could perceive two persons come forth from the porch, and walk towards the water-side. In a few minutes she heard the dashing of oars on the river, and she knew by a twinkling light which moved along on the water towards Westminster, that a boat was rowing thither. She left her closet, and sought her husband; but she stood as one struck dumb, when they told her that he had departed with his companion. “And hath your master left no word for me?" she said, after a long silence." He commanded me to tell my lady, that he should return by eleven of the clock," replied the domestic. Alice retired again for a short time to her closet, to recover, in some measure, the composure of her mind, and then she went to her children's apartment. With them and their nurses she descended to the hall, and assembled all her household to family prayers. She could not bear that one person should be absent on that evening; and when she knelt down among them, and prayed aloud for her husband, for their country, and for their King, every heart felt, and every heart prayed for her.

Midnight arrived, and found Alice yet watching for her husband's return; but he came not, and she grew wretched. The morning found her still sleepless. The day and the night again passed away, and then Alice, distracted with : doubt, sent to some of her husband's nearest friends; but no information was brought her from them. The King's escape was not mentioned, and she felt convinced that he was still in the power of his enemies.-Alice had in vain attempted to rest during the night, and long before it was light on the morning of the 30th of January, she rose up from her bed. The pale gleams of dawn were beginning to streak the sky; Alice had been long traversing her chamber with hurried steps; she stopped before the casement, and having opened it widely, leaned there, feeling the chill winter air refreshing to her hot and fevered head. The window overlooked the Thames at Lambeth, and many thoughts passed over her mind as she gazed around her. She was half tempted to hope that the King might be then escaping, assisted by her husband. Again she thought that Lisle might have been discovered in the dangerous attempt, and that a prison might have kept him so long away from her. Fears for his life, and a feeling of self-accusation, then made her tremble: but every such hope and fear soon passed away as too visionary, and one dreadful thought settled itself like certainty on her mind: that she should next meet in her husband the murderer of his King. Her heart beat high with the

agony of her feelings, and she found no relief till she sought it on her knees. As she rose from her prayers, the clock of Lambeth church struck eight. She heard the sound of oars on the water, and again she sought the open casement. Two boats passed down towards Westminster; she involuntarily watched them, and perceived, that after stopping at the opposite shore, near the Abbey, they returned empty. Other boats passed and returned also without passengers. Alice looked intently after the persons who had landed, but they soon disappeared. Nothing but the buildings opposite met her view; and she felt how much of deep, nay, terrible interest might be going on where those tall buildings lifted up their dark and silent walls towards the sky, and baffled her anxious gaze. She wished, with a fearful curiosity, that the streets could be laid open at her look, that every barrier might for a moment fall away which concealed from her sight the objects of her distracting doubt.

Hour after hour passed on, and Alice still returned again and again to the casement. Many more boats had landed their passengers at Westminster., Alice asked no questions of her servants, but dressing herself very plainly, and tying a hood of grey silk half over her face, she left the house by a private door. She walked quickly to the ferry, and there crossed the river to Westminster. The first street that she entered she found crowded with persons all hurrying onward, as if all seeking one object. Alice turned from the crowd into some narrower streets, but still followed on in the same direction. As she passed the end of a long straight alley that crossed her way, she saw that a mob was collected on the left. Hardly waiting to think, she turned, and almost ran towards the crowd. She was then struck by the awful and death-like stillness of every thing around; her own light footsteps alone sounded in her ears, as she passed along to the end of the alley. She pressed herself among the mob, and threw back the hood which hung over her eyes, but no one noticed her. Every eye was fixed, as if spell-bound, on the scene which burst upon her view. On a platform covered over with black, stood three men in masques; a bishop in his robe's stood also there. Other persons were standing there, but Alice noticed them not. Her glance was dazzled for a

moment by a large axe which gleamed clear and bright in the faint sunshine, and which lay upon the block full in view of the populace; but one object alone rivetted her eyes, and every power of her mind,-a countenance which she instantly recognised, which, from that moment, she could never forget. She had often seen it before, but she then felt as if she were observing it for the first time, as if she had never known it