"Scarcely. Guy and Walter are as tall as yourself; and my daughter-"

"Your daughter ?"—with a start- "oh yes, I recollect. Baby Maud. Is she at all like—like—”

"No."

Neither said more than this; but it seemed as if their hearts warmed to one another, knitted by the same tender remembrance.

We drove home. Lord Ravenel muffled himself up in his furs, complaining bitterly of the snow and sleet.

"Yes, the winter is setting in sharply," John replied, as he reined in his horses at the turnpike gate. "This will be a hard Christmas for many."

"Ay, indeed, sir," said the gate-keeper, touching his hat. "And if I might make so bold-it's a dark night and the road's lonely" he added in a mysterious whisper.

"Thank you, my friend. I am aware of all that." But as John drove on, he remained for some time very silent.

On, across the bleak country, with the snow pelting in our faces-along roads so deserted, that our carriage-wheels made the only sound audible, and that might have been heard distinctly for miles.

All of a sudden the horses were pulled up. Three or four ill-looking figures had started out of a ditch-bank, and caught hold of the reins.

"Holloa there!-What do you want ?"

"Money."

"Let go my horses! They're spirited beasts. You'll get trampled on."

"Who cares?"

This brief colloquy passed in less than a minute. It showed at once our position-miles away from any house— on this desolate moor; showed plainly our danger-John's danger.

He himself did not seem to recognise it. He stood upright on the box seat, the whip in his hand.

"Get away, you fellows, or I must drive over you!" "Thee'd better!" With a yell one of the men leaped up and clung to the neck of the plunging mare-then was dashed to the ground between her feet. The poor wretch uttered one groan and no more. John sprang out of his carriage. caught the mare's head, and backed her.

"Hold off!-the poor fellow is killed, or may be in a minute. Hold off, I say."

If ever these men, planning perhaps their first ill deed, were struck dumb with astonishment, it was to see the gentleman they were intending to rob take up their comrade in his arms, drag him towards the carriage-lamps, rub snow on his face, and chafe his heavy hands. But all in vain. The blood trickled down from a wound in the temples-the head, with its open mouth dropping, fell back upon John's knee. "He is quite dead."

The others gathered round in silence, watching Mr. Halifax, as he still knelt, with the dead man's head leaning against him, mournfully regarding it.

"I think I know him. Where does his wife live?"

Some one pointed across the moor, to a light, faint as a glow-worm. "Take that rug out of my carriage-wrap him in it." The order was at once obeyed.. "Now carry him home. I will follow presently."

"Surely not," expostulated Lord Ravenei, who had got out of the carriage and stood, shivering and much shocked, beside Mr. Halifax. "You would not surely put yourself in the power of these scoundrels? What brutes they arethe lower orders!"

"Not altogether-when you know them. Phineas, will you drive Lord Ravenel on to Beechwood?"

"Excuse me certainly not," said Lord Ravenel, with dignity. "We will stay to see the result of the affair. What a singular man Mr. Halifax is, and always was," he added, thoughtfully, as he muffled himself up again in his furs, and relapsed into silence.

Soon, following the track of those black figures across the snow, we came to a cluster of peat huts, alongside of the moorland road. John took one of the carriage-lamps in his hand, and went in, without saying a word. To my surprise Lord Raverel presently dismounted and followed him. I was left with the reins in my hand, and two or three of those ill-visaged men hovering about the carriage; but no one at tempted to do me any harm. Nay, when John reappeared, after a lapse of some minutes, one of them civilly picked ip the whip and put it into his hand.

"Thank you. Now, my men, tell me what did you want with me just now ?"

66 Money," " cried one. "Work," shouted another. “And a likely way you went about to get it! Stopping me in the dark, on a lonely road, just like common robbers. I did not think any Enderley men would have done a thing so cowardly."

66

"We bean't cowards," was the surly answer. carries pistols, Mr. Halifax."

"Thee

"You forced me to do it. My life is as precious to my wife and children, as-as that poor fellc w's to his."-John stopped. "God help us, my men! it's a hard world for us all sometimes. Why did you not know me better? Why not come to my house and ask honestly for a dinner and a half crown?-you should have both, any day."

"Thank'ee, sir," was the general cry. "And, sir," begged one old man, "you'll hush up the 'crowner's 'questyou and this gentleman here. You won't put us in jail, for taking to the road, Mr. Halifax ?"

"No;-unless you attack me again. But I am not afraid -I'll trust you. Look here!" He took the pistol out of his breast-pocket, cocked it, and fired its two barrels harmlessly into the air. "Now, good-night, and if ever I carry fire-arms again, it will be your fault, not mine."

So saying, he held the carriage-door open for Lord Ra venel, who took his place with a subdued and thoughtful air: then mounting the box-seat, John drove, in somewhat melancholy silence, across the snowy starlit moors to Beeck wood.

In the home-light.

CHAPTER XXXII

It was a scene-glowing almost as those evening pictures at Longfield. Those pictures, photographed on memory by the summer sun of our lives, and which no paler after-sun could have power to reproduce. Nothing earthly is ever reproduced in the same form. I suppose heaven meant it to be so; that in the perpetual progression of our existence, we should be reconciled to loss, and taught that change itself but another form for aspiration. Aspiration, which never can rest, or ought to rest, in anything short of the One