held in his hand a straw bonnet, beaten out of shape, and draggled in the mud of the corcass. Hardress just caught the word "horrible" as they

rode swiftly by.

"What's horrible?" shouted Hardress aloud, and rising in his stirrup. The two gentlemen were already out of hearing. He sunk down again on his seat, and glanced aside at his father and Conolly. "Come down upon the corcass, and we shall learn."

They galloped in that direction. The morning was changing fast, and the rain was now descending in much greater abundance. Still, there was not a breath of wind to alter its direction, or give the slightest animation to the general lethargic look of nature. As they arrived on the brow of the hill, they perceived the crowd of horsemen and peasants collected into a dense mass around one of the little channels before described. Several of those in the centre were stooping low, as if to assist a fallen person. The next rank, with their heads turned aside over their shoulders, were employed in answering the questions of those behind them. The individuals who stood outside were raised on tiptoe, and endeavoured, by stretching their heads over the shoulders of their neighbours, to peep into the centre. The whipper-in, meanwhile, was flogging the hounds away from the crowd, while the dogs reluctantly obeyed. Mingled with the press were the horsemen, bending over their saddle-bows, and gazing downward to the centre.

"Bad manners to ye!" Hardress heard the whipper-in exclaim as he passed; "what a fox ye found us this morning. How bad ye are now for a taste o' Christian's flesh!"

As he approached nearer to the crowd, he was enabled to gather further indication of the nature of the transaction from the countenance and gestures of the people. Some had their hands elevated in strong fear, many brows were knitted in eager curiosity, some raised in wonder, and some expanded in affright. Urged by an unaccountable impulse, and supported by an energy he knew not whence derived, Hardress alighted from his horse, threw the reins to a countryman, and penetrated the group with considerable violence. He dragged some by the collars from their places, pushed others aside with his shoulder, struck those who proved refractory with his whip-handle, and in a few moments attained the centre of the ring.

Here he paused, and gazed in motionless horror upon the picture which the crowd had previously concealed.

A small space was kept clear in the centre. Opposite to Hardress. stood Mr Warner, the magistrate and coroner of the county, with a small note-book in his hand, in which he made some entries with a pencil. On his right stood the person who had summoned him to the spot. At the feet of Hardress was a small pool, in which the waters now appeared dis

turbed and thick with mud, while the rain descending straight gave to its surface the semblance of ebullition. On the bank at the other side, which was covered with sea-pink and a species of short moss peculiar to the soil, an object lay on which the eyes of all were bent with a fearful and gloomy expression. It was for the most part concealed beneath a large blue mantle, which was drenched in wet and mire, and lay so heavy on the thing beneath as to reveal the lineaments of a human form. A pair of

small feet, in Spanish leather shoes, appearing from below the end of the garment, showed that the body was that of a female; and a mass of long fair hair, which escaped from beneath the capacious hood, demonstrated that this death, whether the effect of accident or malice, had found the . victim untimely in her youth.

The cloak, the feet, the hair, were all familiar objects to the eye of Hardress. On very slight occasions, he had often found it absolutely impossible to maintain his self-possession in the presence of others. Now, when the fell solution of all his anxieties was exposed before him,- now, when it became evident that the guilt of blood was upon his head,—now, when he looked upon the shattered corpse of his Eily, of his chosen and once-beloved wife, murdered in her youth, almost in her girlhood, by his connivance,—it astonished him to find that all emotion came upon the instant to a dead pause within his breast. Others might have told him that his face was rigid, sallow, and bloodless as that of the corpse on which he gazed. But he himself felt nothing of this. Not a sentence that was spoken was lost upon his ear. He did not even tremble, and a slight anxiety for his personal safety was the only sentiment of which he was perceptibly conscious. It seemed as if the great passion, like an engine embarrassed in its action, had been suddenly struck motionless, even while the impelling principle remained in active force.

"Has the horse and car arrived?" asked Mr Warner, while he closed his note-book. "Can any one see it coming? We shall all be drenched to the skin before we get away."

"Can we not go to the nearest inn and proceed with the inquest," said a gentleman in the crowd, "while some one stays behind to see the body brought after?”

"No, sir," said Mr Warner, with some emphasis; "the inquest must be held super visum corporis, or it is worth nothing."

"Warner," whispered Conolly to Cregan, with a smile; "Warner is afraid of losing his four-guinea fee. He will not let the body out of his sight." "You know the proverb," returned Cregan; "A bird in the hand,' &c. What a fine fat fox he has caught this morning!"

At this moment, the hounds once more opened in a chopping concert ; and Hardress, starting from his posture of rigid calmness, extended his arms, and burst at once into a passion of wild fear.

"The hounds! the hounds!" he exclaimed. "Mr Warner, do you hear them? Keep off the dogs! they will tear her if ye let them pass ! Good sir, will you suffer the dogs to tear her? I had rather be torn myself, than look upon such a sight. Ye may stare as ye will, but I tell you all a truth, gentlemen-a truth, I say-upon my life, a truth!"

"There is no fear," said Warner, fixing a keen and practised eye upon him.

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Ay, but there is, sir, by your leave," cried Hardress. "Do you hear them now? Do you hear that yell for blood? I tell you, I hate that horrid cry. It is enough to make the heart of a Christian burst. Who put the hounds upon that horrid scent-that false scent? I am going mad, I think. I say, sir, do you hear that yelling now? Will you tell me now there is no fear? Stand close! Stand close, and hide me-her, I mean -stand close!"

"I think there is none whatever," said the coroner, probing him. "Need I tell you," cried Hardress, grasping his whip, and abandoning himself to an almost delirious excess of 66 rage; I tell you there is. If this ground should open before me, and I should hear the hounds of Satan yelling upward from the deep, it could not freeze me with a greater fear! But, sir, you can pursue what course you please," continued Hardress, bowing, and forcing a smile; "you are here in office, sir. You are at liberty to contradict as you please, sir; but I have my remedy. You know me, sir, and I know you. I am a gentleman. Expect to hear from me further on this subject."

So saying, and forcing his way through the crowd, with as much violence as he had used in entering, he vaulted, with the agility of a Mercury, into his saddle, and galloped, as if he were on a steeple-chase, in the direction of Castle-Chute.

-GERALD GRIFFIN.