well it may tell in the past life of a hero, has no romantic charm in its actual details. He con

tinued silent. His father perceived, or at least hoped, that he wavered.

Speak," he said, in a voice of earnest entreaty, "speak, Herbert-my dear son, for God's sake, speak."

"It is right above all things to desire his forgiveness," thought Herbert, "and it is plain there is but one way of getting it. I am in a diabolical hobble-if I succeed in getting back to camp, what am I to expect? Imprudence is crime with our general; and, after all, what good have I done the cause ?—and yet

"Herbert," exclaimed Isabella, and her voice thrilled through his soul, " is it possible you Waver ? ?

He started as if he were electrified: his eye met hers, and the evil spirits of doubt and irresolution were overcome.

"Heaven forgive me!" he said, "I waver no

longer."

"Then, by all that is holy," exclaimed Mr. Linwood, flushed with disappointment and rage, (6 you shall reap as you sow; it shall never be said that I sheltered a rebel, though that rebel be my son." He rang the bell violently; "Justice shall have its course-why does not Jupe come!--you too to prove false, Isabella! I might have known it when I saw you drinking in the vapouring of that fellow Lee to-day; again he rang the bell: "you may all desert me, but I'll be true so long as my pulse beats."

No one replied to him. Mrs. Linwood, sustained by Herbert's encircling arm, wept. aloud. Isabella knew the tide of her father's passion would have its ebb as well as flow; she believed the servants were in bed, and that before he could obtain a messenger to com

municate with the proper authority, which she perceived to be his present intention, his Brutus resolution would fail. She was however startled by hearing voices in the lower entry, and immediately Rose burst open the door, crying, "Fly, Mr. Herbert-they are after you!"

The words operated on Mr. Linwood like a gust of wind on a superincumbent cloud of smoke. His angry emotions passed off, and nature flamed up bright and irresistible. Every thought, every feeling but for Herbert's escape and safety, vanished. "This way, my son," he cried; "through your mother's room down the back stairs, and out at the side gate.— God help you!" He closed the door after Herbert, locked it, and put the key into his pocket. Isabella advanced into the entry to meet her brother's pursuers, and procure a delay of a few moments on what pretext she

could. She was met by two men and an officer, sent by Colonel Robertson, the commandant. "Your pardon, Miss Linwood," said the officer, pushing by her into the room where her father awaited him.

"How very rude!" exclaimed Mrs. Linwood, for once in her life speaking first and independently in her husband's presence; "how very

rude, sir, to come up stairs into our bedrooms without permission."

"I

The officer smiled at this pretended deference to forms at the moment the poor mother was pale as death, and shivering with terror. beg your pardon, madam, and yours, Mr. Linwood-this is the last house in the city in which I should willingly have performed this duty; but you, sir, are aware, that in these best and most honoured friends

times our very

are sometimes involved with our foes."

"No apologies, sir, there's no use in themyou are in search of Mr. Herbert Linwoodproceed-my house is subject to your pleasure."

The officer was reiterating his apologies, when a cry from the side entrance to the yard announced that the fugitive was taken. Mr. Linwood sunk into his chair; but, instantly rallying, he asked whither his son was to be conducted.

"I am sorry to say, sir, that I am directed to lodge him in the Provost's-"

"In Cunningham's hands!-the Lord have mercy on him, then!"

The officer assured him the young man should have whatever alleviation it was in his power to afford him, until Sir Henry's further pleasure should be known. He then withdrew, and left Mr. Linwood exhausted by a rapid succession of jarring emotions,