met the eye or ear. Fielder shaded his eyes with his hand as he peered curiously through the shadows of the wood: a rustling sound was heard, and through a narrow bridle path which opened on the space beforementioned, a lad advanced leading by either hand a horse saddled and bridled, each decofated with a thick sheepskin shabrack and leathern holsters.

"How now, Redhead, my lad! where's Bess? You don't think I'd give the sorrel to a friend, do you?" said Fielder, with some dissatisfaction, as he' surveyed the steeds.

"Why that's no fault o' moine," replied the lad, who from the foxy colour of his caput had an unquestionable claim to the title of Redhead: "a' knows he's a bit of a shier loike, and that a'kicks noo and then; but a' can't help that. Master Wheeler said-saving your presence, sir;" addressing Dick, as 'twere no great matter which on em I tuk-Sorrel or Witch-sein' as there wur no need chancing mischief to Bess wi' a green un." The fellow gave a simple grin as he said this, as if unconscious of any rudeness; though a furtive twinkle of the eye as he caught the rising expression of anger on Fielder's countenance, might have been seen by an acute observer.

"And who, the hand d-n!" vociferated Fielder, "is to settle for me what horses I shall ride, much more how I shall mount my friends. Ned Wheeler, too, the skulking, smuggling, peaching vagabond! Come, lead us on directly, and get Bess saddled quickly; fly, jump," and he cracked his riding whip within an inch or two of the leather-cased calves of Redhead.

The lad led back the horses the way he came, and the two followed him: emerging from the wood a footpath between two hedges brought them to a turnstile; the top of this Redhead quickly removed, and thereby afforded passage for the quadrupeds into a shed, the front of which abutted on a yard strewed with wheels, whole, broken, and under repair, rough spokes, logs, and all the other symbols of a wheelwright's trade. Passing laterally through this shed without exposing themselves by entering the yard, a small door at its side conducted them into the snug stable of a hedge ale-house. A noble brute stood at the manger; the eye of Fielder sparkled, as he rapidly surveyed her form; she was in truth a study for a painter. \

Her head, and in no part is blood and breed so strikingly developed—was small and angular; from the small white star on her ample forehead, her finely chiselled head tapered toward the muzzle, and as suddenly swelled out to form the widely dilated cartilaginous nostril, so essential not only to beauty, but to free respiration; her lips were thin, firm, and well supported. Full, large, bright and expressive eyes, bespoke her intelligence; while her small and spirited ears, placed wide apart, gave token by their constant and lively action of her spirit, temper and endurance. Her beautifully arched neck, entering the chest just above the point of her shoulder, fine and smooth above, but displaying a chiselled muscularity in its lower parts, supported lightly and without fatigue the exquisitely formed head. The starting_muscles of the forearm, close-knit joints, and deep flat wiry shanks, the flexors of which stood prominently from the bone; the slanting and elastic pastern, the neatly rounded and solid foot, all spoke eloquently of speed, bottom, and strength to carry her through the severest tasks which an exacting master could demand from the noblest servant of man. A long back, broad loins, muscular gaskins and flat hocks impressed, even on the most indifferent observer, the idea of her prodigious power. Her withers, though apparently low, were fine; sloping shoulders

broa chest and depth of girth, announced her endurance to be equalled donlyby her speed. Beautiful in form, graceful in action, and docile in temper, she playfully evinced her satisfaction at the caresses which Turpin bestowed on her. Fielder viewed with pleasure the surprise and admiration of our hero, who was himself no mean critic in all matters of horseflesh. He was gratified by his young friend's judicious praise.

"She'll do any thing but talk, friend Dick," said he, looking at her with almost a lover's eye; "where would you see such another? not in the king's stables, I warrant you; though there's fine cattle there. Too much of the thick German blood though to show such as she: there's Eastern fire in those veins, Dick, and no mistake! Fleet as a greyhound, lively as a kitten— her age? you don't guess it, for a guinea!"

"Done," said Dick, good humouredly, "five years old; d'ye like that ?” "Your guinea, Dick," said Fielder, "but you can owe it me," and stepping to the mare's head, he exhibited her mouth.

*

"Three years, by jingo!" said Dick, as he surveyed with astonishment the central permanent nippers but just developed. "Why, how's this? I'd have sworn her a full-grown mare."

"The knowing ones are taken in when they meet a phenomenon ;" said Fielder, merrily; " and Black Bess is one. But time presses." While this conversation was going forward, Redhead was busily engaged in transferring the accoutrements from Sorrel to the back of the noble charger. "She'll want no spur," said Fielder, "I pride myself, Dick, on the finest woman, and the best bred prad, that brass and a good figure can procure. So ho! Bess! Egad, I've forgot till this moment, to ask you whether you've pluck to mount her; she's young and skittish as a maid, and as ticklish to manage. Soho, Bess! gently." While thus speaking Fielder himself tightened the girths, measured the length of the stirrups with his eye, and gave several other little marks of attention to the equipment; finally, having passed his hand down each taper leg from the knee to the fetlock, he desired Redhead to lead her forth. They were soon in the wood, and Turpin, who among his many feats of personal activity, reckoned that of being a bold and skilful rider, crossed his steed with a vault which won the heart of the generous Fielder.

The two walked their steeds slowly in the direction of the river, and having arrived within a hundred yards of the spot, they met the returning Redhead, who, having hastened to the waterside, now met them with the welcome intelligence that the boat was ready. Fielder tossed the boy a piece of silver, and both horses were soon on board.

"When the envoy returning from his former mission was encamped near Bagdad an Arab rode a bright bay mare of extraordinary shape and beauty before his tent, until we attracted his attention. On being asked if he would sell her; 'Why what will you give me?' was the reply. That depends upon her age. I suppose she is past five? Guess again,' said he. Four?' 'Look at her mouth,' said the Arab with a smile. On examination, she was found to be rising three. This, from her size and symmetry, greatly enhanced her value. The envoy said, 'I will give you fifty tomans' (a coin nearly the value of a pound sterling) A little more if you please,' said the fellow apparently entertained, Eighty, a hundred.' He shook his head and smiled. The offer at last came to two hundred tomans. Well, said the Arab, you need not tempt me further; it's of no use-you are a rich elchel (nobleman) You have fine horses, camels, and mules, and, I am told you have loads of silver and gold. Now, added he, you want my mare, but you shall not have her for all you've got."-Sir J• Malcolm's Sketches of Persia.

"Oliver whiddles to night," said Fielder, "a few more blindst would be no harm."

"Ay, ay, Sir," said the man who was labouring at the long oars of the horse-ferry boat, and who was evidently no novice in the service he was engaged in. "Ay, ay, but you'll have a shower, or an hour or two's by yet, I can feel it i'the wind; and see just in its eye there, how it's thickening. We'll have a dirty night, or ould Dan's a long way out-and that's what he seldom is."

The boat grided on the gravelly causeway, and the party stepped out. "The time and signal?" said the grey-headed fisherman, for such he seemed.

"Two ; but d-n it Dan can't you have Tom here with the boat, in case time should press us?"

"No," replied the other, "that's unpossible; Tom's off on a long-shorelay; and there's no knowin' when he'll be back-at least for sartain—but I'll do the thing. Though 't wont do to have the boat beached o' this side the river."

"Well," said Fielder, "needs must when the d-1 drives; so bear a hand old blue-light, and keep a sharp look out for three flashes of loose powder on the edge of the osier bed here away on the right:

“Ay, ay, your honour,” replied Dan ; "I'll warrant as you shan't wait." And leading their horses on to the level causeway, the two horsemen rode smartly onward for the great high road through the forest of Hainault.

Is there anything more calculated to give a fillip to the blood, to quicken the circulation, and raise the animal spirits, then a bursting gallop on a cool night, beneath the flickering beams of a partially obscured moon? The clouds had gathered over half of the horizon, and the moistness of the breeze as it came in the faces of the riders was invigorating.

Though well mounted, Fielder found some difficulty in keeping pace with his companion.

"She's all that you can wish," said he, making an exertion to draw up to her head," but recollect she's young, and not what she will be a year or two hence." Dick reined in.

"Here's a right sort of night," said Fielder, "another mile and we're there." A few slight spits of rain came down the wind.

"Bravo," said Fielder, " this will do;" again their pace was quickened, and after crossing a portion of the forest at a slapping pace, they found themselves on the desired high road.

"Hold hard," cried Fielder, and they stopped. They listened; no sound was audible, save the dropping rain from the branches of the water-loaded trees, as their tufted heads shook in the passing breeze, for the shower had now ceased. "He can't have passed," soliloquised Fielder; "'tis yet scarce ten, and his horses are ordered at the Spread Eagles at that time, and it'll take 'em a while to put 'em into his old clumsy drag."

Turpin felt a new and unwonted sensation of anxiety creep over him as the time approached. It was not fear; it was rather a yearning to do boldly in the business, and justify the flattering estimate of his prowess which he could not help seeing his admired companion had formed. To him the character

The moon blabs; tell tales.

+ Clouds.

A smuggling adventure.

§ A well known inn on Epping Forest.

1

and avocation of George Fielder embodied enough of romance and adventure completely to silence all conscientious scruples; and his generosity and frankness had so attached our hero to his fortunes, that in the ardour of his youthful single-mindedness, he would have hazarded life in his defence. Again they listened-Fielder dismounted, and placing his ear close to the ground, said hastily, "Back, back under yonder tree; I'll give the signal. Just nicked, by Jupiter! Hark!"

Dick listened; the grating, crushing whirr of carriage wheels, as they rolled heavily along the drift road, moistened by the recent rain, grated on

the ear,

"Ready, lad? eh?" said Fielder, having thrown his horse's bridle over a stake in the hedge at the road-side. "Ride out ahead of the horses and present then to the carriage window-I've already told you the rest. They

come.

The lumbering family carriage of the Westons neared them as these words were spoken. The well-fed long-tailed Flanders horses which drew it made but small progress in their heavy trot; and while the carriage was yet some twenty yards from the spot where the horseman and footman lay in ambush, our hero, in his nervousness lest the prize should pass and thus overwhelm him with what he deemed eternal disgrace, emerged from the shadow of the huge elm beneath which they were concealed.

"Confound it," exclaimed Fielder, as he saw Dick advance towards the carriage, in full view of the driver, with pistol in hand-"He'll get shot— it's too late now to back, so here goes, if it is to be a fight." So saying he rushed forward, and just as our hero, in an authorative tone, had ordered the postillion to stop, Fielder seized the horses' heads, and presenting a pistol, bade Dick see to the inside passengers. Quick as thought he was at the window-and to his ready and decisive" Deliver," the voice of Mr. Sheepshanks was heard, declaring, in a tone rendered ludicrously tremulous by terror, that they possessed nothing to deliver.

The trembling arm of the steward of Sir Litton was stretched over the panel, and the door opened. Sir Litton was not within; he had commissioned his steward and Mr. Sheepshanks to convey the cash to London for deposit at his banker's. The booty was contained in three or four stout canvass bags placed on the seat of the carriage. The parley was short. "Hand out," cried Turpin; "d'ye suppose I'll condescend to take it; no! Throw the bags on the ground, and we'll spare your sneaking lives; conceal but one of them and you die !"

Three bags were thrown with great deliberation and much hesitation from the interior of the carriage, and a pause took place.

"How many ?" asked Fielder, who still held the bridle-rein.

"Three!" replied our hero.

"It won't do; there are five," said Fielder positively; another bag came forth.

"Another!" said Dick, accompanying the demand with a threatening gesture. Sheepshanks threw it tremblingly from the seat.

"Five ?" demanded Fielder.

"All right!" replied Turpin.

"You may go !" said Fielder, loosing his hold of the rein.

The terrified postillion clapped spur to his near horse, while with hearty

good-will he applied the whip to the flanks of the other. The travellers in the carriage had placed a good fifty yards or more between themselves and the highwaymen, who had just secured the bags which lay on the road, when the flash of a pistol was seen from the coach-window, and an instant after the smart crack of its report reached their ears; it was out of the range of even a better description of firearms.-Fielder laughed derisively.

"That's the lawyer's shot, I'll warrant. Foregad, the vermin has the will though not the power to do mischief. I reckon that's rather out of the record, though-as old six-and-eightpence, my Lyon's Inn master, used to say." [Fielder had qualified himselt for his present profession by having "follored the law," which now returned the compliment by occasionally following him.] "Shall we ride after and give him a taste of the nearest horsepond; eh, comrade?"

"Say the word and I'm with you," replied Turpin.

"Off then," said Fielder.

A minute's ride brought thein to the carriage: it was again stopped; and the lawyer, half dead with terror, was dragged into the road.

"For the love of mercy, gentlemen," shrieked Octavius, "don't murder me; I'm not fit to die; help! help!"