"I am going down-stairs," I remarked, preparing to open the door. "Oh, Albert Edward, take care of your precious life," groaned Jemima Ann from beneath the blankets. I proceeded, candle in hand, down-stairs. A confused mass of clothes was visible in the gloom, lying all in a heap at the bottom of the stairs. I recognised them at once; they were petticoats. I knew it all now. It was our poor servant. We had quite forgotten to tell her of Jemima Ann's remarkable arrangement to secure our premises (up-stairs) from attack! She had gone down to her work thus early as usual, and had fallen a martyr to her punctuality and habits of early rising. There was one comfort for her: she had suffered in the cause of duty. Consolation such as this I skilfully administered to her, but, I regret to say, she ungratefully refused to appreciate it, and displayed a lamentable want of temper as I carried her up-stairs and placed her comfortably in her own bed. But what can you expect from a workhouse girl? We were rather late at breakfast that morning, and had just finished it, and were speculating as to whether we were to go on nightly, ad infinitum, laying our little trap upon the stairs, until Bill and his pal thought fit to put in their anticipated appearance, when our wicket-gate opened, and those two individuals, in propria personâ, actually walked in! I rubbed my eyes at first, thinking I was dreaming. The proceeding in broad daylight seemed so monstrously, so indecently outrageous. Could it be possible, the wild thought struck me, that, deprived by circumstances over which they had no control of the opportunity of "breaking in" at the legitimate and customary small hours of the preceding night, they were reduced to the highly unprofessional course of sacking a man's house in broad daylight before his eyes? Oh, no, I could not, I would not believe it. Despatching Jemima Ann, however, via the kitchen and the back-door, to escalade the wall (at any risk from broken bottle glass) into the next premises, with directions to give an instant alarm, I proceeded to answer Bill's ring at the front bell, vice Maria invalided in bed. Of course I did not commit the manifest absurdity of opening the door. My object merely was to gain a few minutes' time to permit Jemima Ann and her new allies to arrive in the enemy's rear. "What do you want?" I asked, in, I flatter myself, a firm but conciliatory tone. "Is Mr. Sprouts in?" (Sprouts is my name) replied a husky voice, which I at once recognised as proceeding from the vocal organ of the "guv'ner.' (N.B. My astonishment at their way of doing business no words can describe the coolness of the inquiry almost took away my breath.) "Mr. Sprouts is in, and what may you want with Mr. Sprouts?" I at length replied, in accents which concentrated rage and astonishment must have rendered dignified and imposing in the extreme. "Why, this yere honvelope is for him," the guv'ner answered, at the same time pushing a letter beneath the door. "We comes from the railway company, we does." "Oh, you comes from the railway company, you does," I repeated, sarcastically. I began to be staggered, though, by the preternatural audacity of the proceedings. I duly took possession of the suspicious "honvelope." It was properly addressed: "Mr. Sprouts, I decided to open it. I did open it. I read it. This was it: "Office of the Crystal Palace Wire Tramway Company, "January 28, 1870, Broad-street, E.C. "SIR,-By order of my directors I beg to inform you that the site of your premises is required for the purposes of this company, and in accordance with the provisions of the fifteenth Act of Victoria Regina, section xii., parag. 4, 5, and 6, I hereby formally give you notice and require you to vacate your house on or before the 15th proximo. "I have despatched this by the hands of two of our servants, who have instructions to survey and examine the same in your presence, in order that this company may be enabled to estimate the amount which they may decide to grant as compensation for your interest (if any) in the lease. "I am, &c., 66 THOMAS DUTTON, Secretary." "Interest (if any) in the lease," I replied, mechanically, as I finished the perusal of the document-my mind seemed to require a little time to grapple, as it were, with the unexpected turn which things seemed to be taking-"then Bill and his guv'ner are not burglars, after all," I soliloquised. "But what did they mean by breaking into the flimsy villa?-I especially remember flimsy" I asked myself. Gradually, by a slow, inductive process, I arrived at the solu tion of this also, and I saw that they simply referred to the pulling down of the walls of our cherished retreat. I might undo the door now. I did undo the door. Divested of prejudice, Bill and his guv'ner appeared quite harmless-looking individuals. At this juncture, the wife of my bosom, accompanied by a policeman (miracle of miracles), appeared upon the scene. They were both out of breath from the haste they had made. I drew the latter aside, explained matters, and administered an honorarium to him. He departed well satisfied (if I might judge by the expression of his face) by his day's work. Jemima Ann's countenance, however, during this episode was as good as a picture. Disgust and astonishment seemed struggling for the mastery. But I soon made her understand how the land lay, and (informally) introduced her to Bill and his guv'ner, who were now poking at the walls and measuring the brickwork of our domicile. Some under-current of more than ordinary dissatisfaction, however, still pervaded her fine face. I naturally thought it arose from regret at having to quit Turtle Villa and its aristocratic associations. "Remember the compensation (if any), ducky," I said, consolingly. "Oh, it is not that, Albert Edward," she peevishly replied. "Are you thinking of what your relations in the Guards will say?" I inquired. "No, dear." "Then what?" "Well, if you must know, Albert Edward, it is about the bonnet. "The bonnet !" "Yes, dear, the sweetly pretty bonnet-pea-green, with dahlia flowers-you promised me. You know it is not my fault that the burglars didn't come." Need I say that there was no resisting such argument as this, and that, before many days were over, the fashionable Whitechapel Magazine was made to render up its choicest treasure for the satisfaction of my wife! HER WINNING WAYS. A NOVEL. XLV. A BATTUE WITH A VENGEANCE. COUNT DE FLEURY, young, graceful, gay, had reached Tofts Hall in time for dinner; it was as good as a visit to Paris the sight of him! It was as good as an evening at the Théâtre Comique to witness the joy of Janet at beholding her capital of the world! She took both his hands and jumped; she escorted him to his very chamber. His threw a charm over the scene, gave presence relief to many a sombre thought, and was like sunshine at night! Two young men, neighbours from a distance, named Bence, were of the party; they had their fun, too, with Olive and Janet till a somewhat later hour than usual, very full of the tremendous havoc they were prepared to inflict on the hares and rabbits that were to be driven up to their guns the next morning. After breakfast the next day, the party, all in seemingly good spirits, descended the hall steps equipped for magnificent sport, the girls accompanying them to the terrace, their handkerchiefs streaming as the party strolled away. The subject that had raised a secret storm the day before had not been resumed, yet there was not any coolness between the baronet and his nephew. Sir Jacob's bearing was marked by its usual urbanity, and was reciprocated, the only difference between him and Master being that he had thoughts easy to conceal, and the other deeds hard to hide, which required the better actor. The man of fashion was practised in leaving the yesterday of life behind as a memory not to return uninvited. The ruin of a past life leaves no man free from sorrow, many it swallows up; but Master had a pluck that could not desert him while bodily vigour remained. Such men fare ill in private life; they have no forces to back them, no one to pardon and applaud them. They should belong to armies or the councils of rulers, where handsome allowances are made for their crimes. The direction taken by the sporting party was along the path by the studs, a short cut to the vast preserves across the river. They all saluted old Boggis, who was at his door by the side of his name in chalk. Master, who was last, stopped and chatted with him for a minute, and gave him a guinea. At that time Sir Jacob led the way through a fence, while Mr. Fawkes stayed behind and warned all as they passed not to get their guns entangled in the branches. He then followed the others, not perceiving Master behind. The fence stood high, rising out of an embankment; it had not been cut for several seasons, the custom being to lop the hedges once in ten years for fuel. There was a gap in it between two pines, kept open by the passing and repassing of the keepers, and wide enough for one person to brush through. Mr. Fawkes was not more than ten feet in advance, and about the same distance behind the others, when Master was on the bank, which he crossed hurriedly; at the same moment his gun went off, and its contents struck Mr. Fawkes at the bend of the knee, and were lodged there. At the report all turned round, and saw Mr. Fawkes drop, with his gun still in his left hand. He tried to raise himself and failed. Master was observed to extricate his gun from the branches; perceiving the situation of Mr. Fawkes, he laid it down and ran to his cousin's assistance as the rest had done, all looking equally alarmed. The Count de Fleury quickly ascertained the nature of the wound; the charge had penetrated the joint, and there was very little bleeding. A keeper was directed to raise the young man and carry him to the road, while another supported the limb. Felix Bence was dismissed to the stables for a pony-chaise, and an order to the grooms to be ready with two horses. The father walked by his son's side, giving him brandy from a flask while he held his pulse, and without unnecessary delay the hall was reached, the young man being very faint. Count de Fleury's presence of mind was invaluable. Out of kindness he sent Master off to the hall to order a hot bed to be prepared for Mr. Fawkes. He then proposed to the baronet not to send the grooms to Chiltern for assistance, but to allow him to proceed there in the carriage, to send the surgeons back in it, and to permit him to post to town for an army surgeon. This offer so prompt was accepted gratefully, and rapidly put into exe cution. All except the Count de Fleury had lost their presence of mind; they were panic-struck. Mr. Fawkes endeavoured to cheer the stricken hearts of his friends by assuring them he was not much hurt. His engaging and careless manner resumed its sway, but his pallor contradicted his words, and was witnessed with the saddest forebodings. The news spread rapidly through the mansion. Master, not deserted by a sense of propriety, when he had acquitted himself of |