the charioteer. "Yez know I don't care for Biddy the laste taste in life. Av yez only gave me a bit of a kiss, me honey, I'd be going faster."

"Get along with you, and do what you're told," answered the lady. "You'll catch it if you do not do the thing properly. Here comes the Major's man; he has missed the race, I declare. Pull up the

collar of your coat, stupid."

This he did, and they passed the man rapidly, who wished to look after them.

The jocks are weighed out; some are seated in the carriages, others talking away; whilst the farmers get ready for a race that has been got up for them.

The Major is not satisfied at his defeat; but he is obliged to allow, as all the others did, that the winner rode the race right well.

"Here, Trotter," he said, as he saw his man enter the tent with a greatcoat, "I have been looking for you everywhere. Where the dooce have you been?"

"I missed the race, sir," he replied. "I knew it was over when I saw Mr. Foster in the lane driving towards A--. So I hurried on." "Mr. Foster in the lane! What do you mean ?"

"He was driving his tandem, sir; and there was a lady with him." "A lady! What lady ?" asked his master.

"Well, that I cannot say, sir. She was closely veiled, and they were going along at a famous rate."

The Major turned deadly pale. "Where is the Squire ?" he asked, hurriedly.

"On his cob, sir, just outside, talking to some gentlemen."

"Here, Foxall," said the Major, "I want you particularly for an instant."

The two were in close confab for a minute or two; then the Major called for his hack, and both rode rapidly away.

The Squire's house was not more than two miles distant, and, as they took a short cut, they were soon there.

"Where is Miss Nellie ?" the old gentleman asked, as he entered. "Miss Nellie, sir," said the servant, "went out to walk in the grounds about an hour ago; she said she felt better, and a little air would do her good."

"Then where is her maid ?" demanded the Major.

"The maid, sir, got leave to go to the steeplechase."

"Something curious in all this," remarked the Squire. "Come with me, Hardman." And they mounted the stairs.

Knocking at his daughter's door, receiving no answer, and finding it locked, he put his shoulder against it and burst it open.

The drawers were empty as well as the wardrobe-all had disappeared. "By G-d, it's too true!" he exclaimed. "She has bolted,

by Jupiter! Saddle Cock Robin and Blackbird!" he shouted; and before five minutes had passed, the two gentlemen were mounted and away.

"I'll overtake them yet, Hardman. I know a short cut that will save fully six miles. The county is hilly, and we must come up withthem. Now for it!" and the gallant old man rammed his horse at a stiff five-barred gate that he was in too great a hurry to open. The hind hoofs of the noble animal he bestrode rattled against the top bar as he struck it. The Major flew it like a bird, and both were away at a stretching gallop.

They rode along for some miles in silence. At last the old man. broke it by saying: "I see the cart sinking yonder hill. They cannot escape us now." It was true; the cart was ahead of them, and going along at a hard gallop.

In less than twenty minutes the horsemen were close behind.

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'Stop! Pull up, you infernal scoundrel!" shouted the Squire, "or by heaven I will shoot your leaders!" and he produced an enormous horse-pistol from his pocket, not loaded, nor had it probably been for the last twenty years.

"Sure, f'what would I be pulling up for, Squire, dear?" demanded the driver. "Faith, I'm only doing the master's bidding!" but he pulled up nevertheless.

"Nellie, take down your veil. I command you, as your father."

"Oh, dear sir!" said a voice, "I am not your daughter; I wish I was!" but she did as she was told, and discovered herself to be a very pretty girl.

"What the devil is all this?" asked the old man, in astonishment. "Well, yez see, your honour, the young lady is Mary, the barmaid at the Crown. The master towld me to meet him at A- at five o'clock, so I asked Miss Mary to go, as she could return back by the train; and, mother o' Moses! she was so long putting her bonnet on, that I was obliged to come along at the divil's own pace."

"Don't waste any more words with this idiot," interrupted the Major. "Come along!" And they gallopped away.

They were no sooner out of sight than the tandem was turned round, and took its way back from whence it came.

Whilst all this was taking place, a stylish brougham, with the imperial on, and drawn by a magnificent pair of chestnut horses, was being driven rapidly along in exactly an opposite direction. Who were inside no one could tell, for the crimson blinds were drawn down. On the box beside the coachman sat an exceedingly nicelooking person.

"Tell me what the time is, Lucy," asked the coachman.

"Half-past three, Mr. Dickinson," answered the girl, looking at her watch.

"Famous," replied the driver; "we are in capital time."

In some ten minutes more a small railway-station came in view, and the carriage drove quickly up. They were evidently expected, for two or three men in grooms' dresses were loitering about. There was a horse-box and a carriage-truck on the little siding. Not a word was spoken-the horses were taken out and put in the box, and the carriage run on the truck, and securely fastened.

"I did not know as any train was due now," remarked one of the men to the solitary porter.

"Nor more there is," answered the man. "This is a special; and here she comes!"

In less than five minutes more the little train was out of sight, and the porter turned into his lamp-room to refresh himself with a bit of bread-and-cheese and an onion.

Some six or seven days after the events we have narrated, a gentleman and lady were sitting in a large, handsome, well-furnished apartment in Paris.

The gentleman was occupied in looking over the columns of The Times, and smoking a cigar.

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The lady was intently observing the wood fire on the hearth, and seemed lost in thought. Oh, Fred, dear," she exclaimed, at last, "I am so disappointed. I made sure of getting a letter from poor papa this morning. I am sure he will never forgive us."

My pet," returned the smoker," you may be sure you will hear from him; he is too kindhearted not to write. You must give him a little more time; of course it has been a great blow to him. I see the papers have pitched into me for drawing my horse, and putting the betting-men in a hole. Now, I am going to answer it. I only wish I had a chance of letting them in oftener. I do not run horses for the public, but for my own amusement, and for my own pleasure. I cannot help it if they choose to back my animals. I shall run them or not, just as I think proper. I detest betting. It will ruin the turf; and where twenty gentlemen belonged to it ten years ago, there are not five now. Come in," as a knock was heard.

The door opened, and before them stood the Squire! "Nellie!" said he, " this is too bad; a dooced deal too bad. Fred, I'll never forgive you-never." But his look belied his words. "Nellie, you dear, naughty, wicked child, come and kiss me. never forgive you-never," sobbed the old gentleman; but the next instant his daughter was folded in his arms.

I'll

"What the dooce, you scoundrel, did you run away with my daughter for ?"

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'Oh, darling papa! it was all my fault," interrupted his daughter. "You determined I should marry the Major. I was determined I would not. Nothing should ever have induced me to do so."

"No, Squire, no. I cannot allow Nellie to say it was her fault; it was mine, and mine only. It is only fair to say we have understood each other for the last two years; but seeing you were so bent on the Major, I knew it would be no use my speaking." At the hunt ball, I danced with your daughter three times. The first dance, I proposed an elopement; the second, I got her answer; and the third, we arranged how it should be done."

"Oh, you rascal !" said the old gentleman. "However, I and the Major were pretty close on you. We overtook your tandem."

My dear sir, that was only a ruse of mine. We were going in an exactly opposite direction."

"Do you mean to say I was running heel all the time?"

"All the way, sir. It is difficult to throw dust in the eyes of such an old hunter as you are. I was obliged to be cautious."

"And where were you married?" asked his father-in-law.

"At my cousin's house, by special licence. When I took Lord Hardup's brougham and chestnuts, I thought it would be exactly the thing for Nellie. We drove to Station, took rail to my cousin's -who married us; here is the certificate-then we drove to where my friend Lord Lavender's steam yacht was waiting for us, and the evening found us in the room where we now are. Come, Squire, I own it's all very wrong, but you must forgive us. The Duchess has written us a letter of congratulation.

"D-n it, I would forgive you if I had not been running heel! It was not fair to double on me like that. I will forgive you this time, but you must never do it again." There was not much fear of this. "Dearest papa, you mean you have forgiven us; so why say anything more about it? The Major must console himself. You must stay with us the month we are here, and then you shall take us home like good and repentant children; and I promise you that next year, if there is one, 'Stoleaway' shall run at 'the Hard and Sharp Steeplechase."

Who killed William Rufus?

WILLIAM THE SECOND lies under the disadvantage of having had his history written only by his bitterest enemies. Those bitter enemies were the Churchmen. They were the more bitter as they had once been his friends, but they were friends who expected much favour at his hands and found none. Disappointment made them disloyal. Archbishop Lanfranc helped Rufus to ascend a throne, to which he was not the nearest heir; Archbishop Anselm, directly or indirectly, encouraged the ill-feeling against the king which culminated in the catastrophe in the New Forest. It is customary with the hostile historians of Rufus to assert that his reign of thirteen years (1087-1100) was altogether inglorious. But had Rufus been thoroughly subservient to the church, monkish chroniclers would have recorded the events of his reign in another spirit than that by which they were influenced. They would have included among the glories the new and most useful survey, made by his order, of all England. They would have reckoned the humiliation of the Scots and the death of the Scottish King Malcolm, at Alnwick, as a great triumph. They would have designated his rebuilding of the utterly ruined and depopulated city of Carlisle as a Heaven-directed work. His successful suppression of the most crafty and cruel conspiracy of the De Mowbrays and De Lacys would have been held to be the result of having Heaven on his side. The possession of such a divine ally would then have accounted for Rufus's complete subjection of the Welsh. The taking of Jerusalem would have been set down as the crowning glory of his reign; for Rufus necessarily has a share in the glory of that triumph, since he had contributed 10,000 marks (taking Normandy in pledge) by which his brother, Duke Robert, was enabled to achieve, with his Norman Crusaders, such a distinguished part in that brilliant passage of arms. The Londoners, though they were rather heavily taxed for some things they were proud of, saw with admiration the new London Bridge which the king built for them. If they were rather indifferent as to the wall William erected about the Tower, they would not look on without pride at that glorious Hall which he raised in Westminster -the superb antechamber to a palace which he did not live to accomplish.

By nature, William may compare with contemporary princes, and he will not suffer by comparison. He was brave, he was a mighty hunter, he was fond of wine and riotous living, as most of them were ;

VOL. XXXVIII.

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