"That is not quite all, madam; I must have security. I know how the like of you look on promises made to the like of me. I got a rope good as round my neck by trusting to them once, and no thanks to them that I slipped it. I'll clinch the nail this time- I'll have security."

"What security?" demanded Mrs. Archer, the colour for the first time forsaking her cheeks and lips; for by the ruffian's glance, and a significant up and down motion of his head, she guessed his purpose.

“A pawn-I must have a pawn-one of them young ones. You need not screech and hold on so, you little fools. If you behave, I'll not hurt a hair of your head. The minute I handle the money you shall have 'em back; but as sure as my name's Sam Hewson, I'll make 'em a dead carcass if you play me false.”

"You shall not touch my children-any

thing else—ask all—take all—any thing but my children."

"Take all !—ay, that we shall—all we can take; and as to asking, we mean to make sure of what we ask a bird in the hand,' mistress."

"Oh, take my word, my oath—spare my children!"

"Words are breath, and oaths breath peppered. Your children are your life; and, one of them in our hands, our secret is as safe with you as with us-we've no time to chaffer-make one of them ready."

"Oh, mother!-mother!" shrieked Lizzy, clinging round her mother's waist.

“Hush, Lizzy-K'll go," said Edward.

"Neither shall go, my children-they shall

take my life first."

The outlaw had advanced with the intention

of seizing one of them; but, awed by the resolution of the mother, or perhaps touched by the generosity of the boy, he paused and retreated, muttering to himself "It's a rough job-Pat shall do it." He once more left the apartment and returned to his comrades.

A sudden thought occurred to Mrs. Archer ;

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a faint hope dawned upon her. Bring me the horn from the hall-table," she said to her servant. The girl attempted to obey, but her limbs sunk under her. Mrs. Archer disengaged herself from the children, ran down the stairs, returned with the horn, threw open her window, and blew three pealing blasts. The outlaws were engaged in packing their spoil.

"Ha!" exclaimed Hewson," it rings wellagain-again.-Never mind; you'll wake nothing, mistress, but the dogs, cocks, and owls. Hear

how they're at it; bow WOW wow-the beggars are come to town,'-ha, ha-well done.

But boys, I say, we'd best be off soon. Pat, you know," (he had already communicated his plan to Pat,) "bring down one of them young

ones."

Pat went-he lingered. "Come, boys, hurry," cried Hewson, who now began to apprehend the possibility of a response to Mrs. Archer's summons: "what the d-1 ails that fellow?" he went to the staircase and called. Pat appeared; but without the child, and looking as a wild beast might, subdued by a charm. "They're blind, captain-both blind!" he said. "I can't touch them-by all that's holy I can't-there's not strength in my arm to hold the sightless things-the one nor the t'other of

'em. So do it yourself, captain—I can't, and there's an end on't."

Hewson hesitated. The image of the mother and her blind children daunted even his fierce spirit. An expedient occurred to him:—“ A sure way," he thought, "of drowning feelings." In ransacking the pantry he had seen a flask of brandy, and then prudently concealed it from his men. He now brought it forth, and passed it round and round. It soon began its natural work: consumed in its infernal fires all intellectual power, natural affection, domestic and pitiful emotion; put out the light of Heaven, and roused the brute passions of the men.

Hewson saw the potion working; their "human countenances changed to brutish form." "It's a d-d shame,-a'n't it, boys," said he, "for this tory madam to balk us?-we shall have a hurra after us for this frolic, and nothing to show-we might as well have robbed a farmhouse, and who would have cared?"