your pledge, Harry, and may the God of the widow and the orphan bless you. Strap on my wooden pin when I am gone; I—I wouldn't like to enter the presence of the Deity with ownly one leg. My call, Harry-the call-hand it here-here, my son. Molly, you-you have been a good wife to-to me; so don't grieve."

Oh John, John, what shall I do without you-you, who were the solace of my days?" said the truly afflicted woman.

'Take-take care of the-of the boy, my precious;" uttered the departing veteran, as his fading sight rested on the bright silver call which Harry had given to him-he pressed it to his lips-a faint smile lighted up his face as he tried to wind it—he seemed to be mustering all his latent energy-a shrill sound rang through the apartment -an hysterical, but low laugh, followed it-again the chirp was heard it was his last breath that raised it-the glittering instrument fell heavily in his hand, and John Paulet was a corpse. It was thus that the veteran resigned existence and the Halfpenny Hatch together. His wishes and requests were strictly complied with, and

"In his white hammock shrouded,"

his mortal remains were enclosed in an oaken coffin, and consigned to the dark home to which all are hastening. The funeral was attended by every one in the locality who knew him-wharfingers, coal-heavers, watermen, and many a pensioner from Greenwich, followed in procession-not a soul of the neighbourhood but was ready to pay a last tribute to his worth.

After the decease of her husband, the widow still continued to keep the hatch; her cottage was always beautifully neat and clean, and with Harry's earnings, and what she could pick up herself, contrived to make out a decent maintenance, so that the youth enjoyed a pleasant and comfortable home; and though his longings grew more and more intense to

"Launch upon the ocean wave,
And battle with the foe,"

yet having promised to remain and be a protector to his mother, he strove to subdue them, and appear contented. But this was a very difficult task, for there was a spirit of enterprise in the lad that was constantly prompting him to push out into the busy world, so as to gain an enlarged knowledge of mankind; and this was mingled with ambitious aspirings to elevate himself from the humble condition of a waterman, to fame, and rank, and opulence. How this was to be effected seldom entered into his consideration; the end, but

not the means of attaining it, was ever present to his imagination; it made him impatient of restraint, but he nevertheless determined to fulfil the engagement he had entered into with his dying father, in which he was the more fixed by the mild remonstrances and unremitting kindness of his widowed mother. At the age of eighteen Harry was a neat, dapper little waterman, singularly handsome in features, and though rather diminutive in stature, yet his limbs were well set, and his muscular development manifested a strength that was capable of enduring great fatigue. Pleasant, affable, and goodhumoured, he was not only highly esteemed by his compeers, but his cheerful manners, ready attention, and light-hearted smile, rendered him a great favourite with the citizens' wives and daughters, who frequently hired his boat for an excursion on the Thames, in order to while away an hour with the handsome young waterman.

ANNE OF MUNSTER.

CHAPTER V.

(With an Illustration.)

It was not until after the sun had risen, and was throwing his sickly beams across the water, that the host of the Pontoon permitted his door to be opened. For several hours the silence of the night had been quite undisturbed, and no trace remained of the desperadoes, yet the cautious host refused to incur the slightest hazard, not knowing but an ambuscade might be ready to surprise him. When the broad daylight, however, gave assurance of safety, he flung open the door, and taking his gun in his, hand, he proceeded to examine the scene of the night's encounter. The door was found sadly hacked and shaken; the walls were broken in several places, and the roof was pulled up and torn, where a half-burnt torch yet lay upon it. Our fears had by no means magnified the violence of the attack, for in every part the most convincing proofs remained of their excessive desperation, and it appeared half miraculous that we had escaped the dangers of this deadly assault.

But the most remarkable circumstance connected with this strange transaction, was the total absence of the bodies that must have been either slain outright or very desperately wounded. Here and there were several pools of blood, but with this exception there was no trace of the mischief that had been done. The nature of the situation

might partly account for this, as the solid rock which formed the road led directly from the door of the Pontoon to the very border of the lake, and of course precluded the possibility of tracing the footsteps of the assailants. A natural suggestion arose in our minds, that the wounded had been cast into the lake, and their bodies hidden from view, but on examining the edge of the rock we could discover nothing that would lead to such a conclusion. On the contrary, so far as we could judge, the bodies appeared to be all carefully carried away, as there were spots of blood leading off in several directions, more or less faint as the condition of the wounded might vary. We followed these ominous landmarks for many yards, but they all ended in obscurity, growing fainter and fainter until they were altogether lost. One only presented a different appearance, and this, after becoming faint like the others, led to a spot where a large mass of gore was clotting in the sun; beyond which, however, not a single drop had fallen, and there was nothing to indicate the path they had taken.

'By dad, yer honour," exclaimed the host, as we stood looking on the unsightly mass, "but this fellow was alive, any how."

"What makes you think so ?" I asked.

66

Faith, then,” he replied readily, "the deaduns don't bleed in this way. All the rest have got their gruel, divil burn them, but this cock may crow again, if the gallows don't tache him manners."

This distinction of my sharp-witted host struck me as extremely probable, and in all likelihood the villains had rested here to bandage the wounds of their companion, and thus prevent the possibility of discovering their route to some place of concealment. The dead bodies could be secreted more easily than a living man, and to guard against detection must now be an object of paramount importance, and we therefore concluded that all the others had been killed, and one only of those who were shot had been carried away with life yet lingering in his veins.

"If we could find the wounded man," I said, as we came to this conclusion, "perhaps he might tell us the meaning of this strange story." "We can find him," replied the landlord, "but in a place where it would not be safe to meet him."

"Why so?" I asked; "he cannot be very dangerous just now." "Himself is a little tamed, may be," replied the host, "but the divil has many imps."

"Then you think there is a numerous gang of these robbers," I asked; anxious to obtain more information than the host seemed willing to give.

"

Myself cannot tell," he replied; "but the dead and the wounded could not carry themselves, and yer honour sees they are gone."

"That is very true," I answered; "but can we not get assistance sufficient to root out this nest of villains ?"

"If you catch them asleep," said mine host, "but that won't be to-day, any how."

By this time we had returned half way back to the Pontoon, and I was busily ruminating over the events of the last night, when my eyes were attracted to an object on the water, which I at once recognised as the female in the boat, who had caused such terror in the mind of my host. Fearful of exciting any unpleasant feelings, and at the same time extremely anxious to learn something concerning this strange appearance, I avoided saying any thing that could excite suspicion, and kept my eye steadily fixed on the distant object. The boat appeared of the slightest and most delicate texture, and scarcely large enough to bear the burden with which it was freighted; though this, to judge from appearance, was light enough, as the figure was exceedingly small, and as delicate as the morning mist. She wore a white veil of transparent gauze over her head, and whether any illusion was produced by this I could not tell, but her whole figure seemed to be transparent, and I could observe no shadow on the water either from her or the boat. The thing that struck me with most surprise was, how to account for the movements she made, as there was neither sail nor oar, and yet the little vessel glided over the water as if impelled solely by the will of its mysterious inmate. "This is strange-passing strange" I said involuntary, after gazing some time; "what, in the name of wonder, can it be?"

"Oh, musha thin! the saints be merciful," cried the host, dropping on his knees with great symptoms of terror, and repeating his prayers with extreme devotion.

"Who or what is she," I asked earnestly, "that can so frighten a brave man like you?"

"Och hone, och hone, and what'll I do? what'll I do ?" he replied dolefully; and no entreaties of mine would induce him to look in the direction of the water.

Finding there was no obtaining any information from this quarter, I turned again to watch this wonderful vision, but there was nothing to be seen the lake had not a speck on its broad bosom-there was no trace of living thing in sight. "Can it be possible?" I cried. "She was there but this minute, and there is nothing to shelter her; where is she gone?"

"Ax no questions," said the landlord, solemnly, "if it's after living

you'd be. Come," he continued, laying hold of my arm, "Nora will be wondering where we are, and the praties are ready."

With these words he hurried me along at a great rate, his mind evidently labouring under some heavy impression; the more heavy, perhaps, because he felt a necessity for being silent on the very subject about which it was most natural to talk. For my own part, the singular appearance, and the more singular disappearance of this strange being, fully occupied my thoughts, and made me the more disposed to follow his injunctions of silence, and we therefore walked on together, each busied with his own thoughts, until we came to the battered door of the Pontoon Hotel.

On entering this rude, yet friendly dwelling, we found the good wife busied in active preparations for the morning meal. These were of a most simple character, as the only article she had to cook was the universal and everlasting potatoe; accompanied, however, on this occasion, by some small fish, which had evidently been recently caught, and probably out of the lake, which lay within thirty or forty yards of the door.

"Your honour's in luck this mornin," said the landlord, snuffing up the scent of the broiling fish, which was hissing and sputtering on the red-hot turf; "but where is Shamus?" he asked, looking round and not observing that individual, who was lying down beyond his dead horse and bemoaning his unlucky loss. "Is it there you are," he cried as he discovered him. "Up man, and don't be making a baste o' yerself. Sure the horse is dead, and all the water in the say won't revive him, let alone the small drhop of brine ye can pump up with moaning."

"Och, thin," said Shamus, lifting himself up and resting his chin on the dead animal, "it's my own self that knows the loss of him. Have I not known him by night and by day for years? and did we ever spake cross to each other? Sure it's himself 'ud tell ye, if he could open his mouth, how kindly I've traited him; and didn't the cratur desarve it? for he did what I axed him, and niver murmured. Och, hone! och, hone! what'll I do? what'll I do? I'm ruined and murthered intirely-and Cathleen herself was so fond of him." "You forget," I said, coming closer to him, "that I promised you two in his place."

"Divil a bit," he cried, jumping up hastily; "it's myself remimbers it very well, and it's mighty obliged I am to your honour's goodness; but sure you would n't forbid a single tear for an ould friend, and just as ye part wid him for ever?"

"By no means," I replied; "it does honour to yourself as well as