May 19.-Dreadful fire at Amsterdam. The great theatre of this city has been burned to the ground, and thirty-one persons have perished in the conflagration. The fate of Mr Jacob de Neufville van Lennep and his lady is particularly deplored. In the rush which every one made to escape from the flames, Mr Lennep lost hold of his wife, and was carried forward, in spite of himself, out of the reach of danger. So great, however, was his affection for his wife, that he was heard to declare that unless she too were rescued, he must perish with her. Accordingly, he forced his way back into the house, offering aloud fifty thousand crowns to any one who would assist in saving her; but vain were all his efforts. Next morning, the wife and husband were dug from the ruins, locked in each other's arms!

May 23.-Died of a fall from his horse, Lord William Manners, brother to the Duke of Rutland. He has left an immense fortune-at least L.400,000, exclusive of a family estate, all of which he is supposed to have acquired by play.

June 24.-Yesterday, a young woman was interred in Chiswick Church, who died for love; an extraordinary instance in these times, which are not remarkable for so much fidelity of attachment. Her pall was supported by six young damsels, and the corpse attended to the grave by fourteen mourners, together with many spectators, who seemed greatly affected by the fate of the unfortunate deceased.

Dec. 10.-Died at Whittingham, in East Lothian, Barbara Wilson, a virtuous old maid, aged one hundred and twenty, hen-wife to Alexander Hay, Esq. of Drummelzier. She had spent the most of her life as a servant in that family, and was so remarkable a genealogist of her feathered flock, as to be able to reckon to the tenth generation. In testimony of her uncommon merit, her corpse was conveyed to the common burial-place there by a large assembly of females uniformly dressed, suitable to the occasion, and interred with the greatest decency. No male person was permitted to accompany the funeral.

1773, August.-Married at Kirkcudbright, the Rev. John Gillespie, minister of Kells, to Lady Bograw, with a handsome fortune, and " ' entirely suitable to the character of a clergyman.'

August 28.-Died at Tain, in Ross-shire, at the very advanced age of one hundred and three years, Mrs Mary Duff, spouse to a respectable burgher in that town. She was a decent, well-behaved, honest woman, and retained her senses to the last. His present reigning majesty is the sixth king reigning on the throne since she was born.

1774, April 4.-Died, Dr Oliver Goldsmith. Deserted is the Village; the Traveller hath laid him down to rest; the Good-natured Man is no more; he Stoops but to Conquer; the Vicar hath performed his sad office; it is a mournful lesson, from which the Hermit may essay to meet the dread tyrant with more than Roman fortitude.

May.-Died, at Hagley, in Worcestershire, my old acquaintance John Tice. He had reached the extraordinary age of one hundred and twenty-five. His life was one of ease and comfort. The greatest misfortune (as he lately declared) which had ever befallen him was the death of his only friend, Lord Lyttleton. He took that loss so much to heart, that he never left his room until after his death.

WHERE?

A MINUTE gone. She lingered here, and then
Passed, with face backward turned, through yonder
door;

The free fold of her garments' damask grain
Fashioned a hieroglyph upon the floor,

Then straightened, as it reached the corridor.
Down the long passages, I heard her feet
Moving-a crepitating music slow-
And next her voice, an echo exquisite,

But modulated in its tender flow

A harp through which the evening breezes blow.
Upon the table, there were books and flowers,
And Indian trifles; a Mahratta blade
Whose ivory hilt sustained a cirque of towers,
Wedded by the inexplicable braid

On Vishnu's shrine at harvest full moon laid.

The curtains shook; a scarlet glamour crossed

The stained wood and the white walls of the roomWavered, retreated, trembled, and was lost Between the statue's plinth, the console's gloom, And yon tall urn of yellow blossomed broom. see her face look backward at me yet,

I

Just as she glided by the cypress chair;
Her happy eyes with happy tears are wet,

And, over bust and shoulders, cool and fair,
Stream the black coils of her abundant hair.

In what far past-in what abysm of time

Have I beheld that self-same look before? There was no difference of hour or clime: A garment made a figure on a floor, Which straightened sweeping towards a corridor. Rare trifles were around me, curtains blew, And worked their restless phantasms on a ceil; sidelong bird across a casement flew,

A

Upon the table glittered graven steel,
And a low voice thrilled me with soft appeal.

All things were there, as all things are, to-day,
Such accidents, in epochs, long grown gray—
But where? I half remember, as a dream,

Such glory, but with ever-narrowing beam,
From which I'm severed by some shoreless stream.
Have I forgotten-is this flash of light,

Which makes the brain and pulse together start, Some ray reflected from the infinite

Worlds, where I mayhap have left a heart-
The Infinite of which I am a part?

Who shall unriddle it? Return, sweet wife,
And with thy presence sanctify this pain;
Cling to my side, O faithful help of life!

Lest, in the hour when night is on the wane,
The destinies divide us two again.

On Saturday, February 7, 1874, will be commenced a Novel, entitled

THE BEST OF HUSBANDS.
By the Author of Found Dead.

Printed and Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, 47 Paternoster Row, LONDON, and 339 High Street, EDINBURGH. Also sold by all Booksellers.

Come, sir," says I, following him up, "you needn't take offence at what I said. If you want a man, I'm willing."

'He did not seem best pleased, though, for he stood hesitating a minute before he answered. However, at length he says: "You'll have to go down by to-night's train. Perhaps your kit isn't ready?"

"Never fear, sir; it does'nt matter to me whether I start to-night or wait a week."

"Well and good. Then you'd better be off, and get your kit in order, and I'll meet you at the station at six o'clock. Mind you 're there sharp!" "Never fear, sir," says I; and so we parted. 'Well, sir, somehow or other, though the fellow was civil enough, I didn't feel altogether easy in my mind; but there was nothing left for it now but to go through with it; so I packed up my kit, bought a few odds and ends, and, towards dusk, made my way down to the station. There was an hour to spare before the train started; so I crossed the road to a public-house, to have a glass of grog, and sat myself down in a snug corner, whilst I sipped my rum-and-water. The room was partitioned off with bulkheads, and there was not a soul there when I entered. By-and-by two men came in, and sat themselves down in the next partition to mine, and I heard them talking together for some time without taking any particular notice. Presently, I thought I heard the name of the craft I'd shipped in, Maid of Orleans, and I pricked up my ears, you may be sure. I'd kept so quiet, that the fellows, I suppose, fancied they had the room to themselves.

Bless your soul, man," says one of them, "it's a safe venture; never fear. Eight thousand pounds; that's the amount!"

"You're a smart fellow, and no mistake. Poor beggars!"

"Hold your tongue! I hate such cant. Who goes halves, eh! tell me that?"

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'Well, don't fire up so, man; surely there's no harm in pitying them, if we are obliged to give them a dose of salt-water. Ha, ha!"

"That's talking like a man of sense. Eight thousand pounds clear profit! I tell you, Harry, it's as safe as the Bank of England. She'll never do it!"

"Light airs and calms, you know Johnny, eh! How about our venture, then?"

"Confound it, man, you're a regular kill-joy. A capful of wind is more than enough! She's like a sieve; once out to sea, she'll sop up water like a sponge."

Suppose they take to the boats; what then?" "Well, what if they do? They weren't built yesterday. The old Reindeer's children are as old as herself, ay, and as rotten!"

'He laughed a low mocking laugh, as he spoke, that sent a chill through my very marrow. I had heard of ships being sent to sea to be lost; but hitherto it had been my good luck to sail in firstclass craft, and I used to put down such tales as forecastle yarns, invented by Jack out of spite to his owners. I was off the scent, however, and must have been mistaken in my fancy that I had heard them mention the Maid of Orleans, though I had some dim notion that I ought to collar the two ruffians and call the police; but then, perhaps, I had not understood the nature of the business, though it seemed plain enough too; and whilst I was debating

in my mind how to act, the fellows got up, and walked out of the place. I started up, so as to get a look at them; but it was too dark to make them out; so I went back to finish my grog, and to turn over in my mind what I'd heard. One thing was clear enough, and that was, that the doomed ship was the Reindeer; and a thought struck me that I might get something about her out of the Shipping Gazette. There she was, sure enough; a large clipper ship, advertised to sail in a week's time, class Al at Lloyd's, owners Huidley & Company. I'm rather out of my reckoning here, says I to myself. That's a firm that never sent an unseaworthy ship to sea, and never will. Maybe, after all, those fellows were making game of me, saw poor Jack sitting there, and took a rise out of him. The clock struck the quarter, so I paid my score, and made all sail for the station. The man was there, looking so cheery and jolly that I scarcely knew him again.

"I was afraid you were going to give me the slip, my hearty," says he, laughing. "Here's your ticket. I'm sorry I can't go with you; but I've telegraphed for some one to meet you at the station, so you'll be well looked after!"

I liked his jokes less than his sneers, so I didn't say anything, but bundled into the train.

"Good-bye, my hearty," says he, shaking me by the hand. "A pleasant voyage, and a quick return!" 'If ever I took a dislike against any one, I did then. The man's face haunted me long after the train had left the station; but being given to brooding, and having no cause to doubt his good faith, I got rid of his evil eyes, and lay back dreaming of a certain brown-eyed Polly who had promised to wait for poor Jack Robins till something turned up.

was

'Arrived at Cardiff, I found the mate on the lookout for me; and after signing articles, we went aboard the Maid of Orleans. The vessel lying in the harbour with the blue-peter flying, and everything ready for sea. She was a long low craft, deep in the water-rather too deep, to please my fancy-fresh painted, and looking fine enough; masts and spars a trifle heavy; but, on the whole, I could find nothing particular to find fault with about her. As we pulled alongside, I noticed a woman on the poop. Hearing the sound of oars, she looked over the side, and I thought I'd never seen a sweeter face in my life.

"Old man got his wife aboard?" says I to the mate. "Yes, and she's a regular good un! !" says he. "You'll find yourself as comfortable aboard as if you was passenger in a liner."

"The skipper was coming up from the cuddy as we got on deck-a fine sailor-like young fellow, about thirty years of age, with an affable, pleasant way with him, that took my fancy.

"I hope you'll be comfortable aboard, my man," says he: "live and let live, that's my motto. You do your duty by me, and never fear but that I'll do mine by you."

"All right, sir," says I, touching my cap; and then I went forward and made acquaintance with my shipmates. Well, sir, to make a long story short, we got under-weigh that afternoon, and stood out to sea, working down Channel with a light southwest breeze. The crew consisted of the captain, chief and second mates, boatswain, and fourteen men and a boy; captain's wife, cook, and steward: twenty-two all told; and things went on smoothly enough for some days after we sailed. My mess

mates told me that this was the skipper's first voyage as master, and that he had been married about three weeks; and a happier couple there couldn't be anywhere. The young girl-for she was ct a child after all-used to come on deck of a morning often when I was at the wheel; and she had always a kind word and a smile, that lighted p her pretty face, for the hands. She was as full d fun and frolic as a kitten, it being, I suppe, such a new kind of life to her; always joking and teasing the skipper, and plaguing him out of his life, what with saying she mast try and be a sailor, and learn to knot, and spice, and steer, and handling the marline-spike and a bit of rope, daubing her pretty fingers with tar, running to the taffrail to look at the fish, or Loisting signals to passing vessels, using the wrong flags, and laughing merrily when the old man would try and be dignified. But 'twas no manner of use; her saucy laugh, rippling out like the little waves breaking against the ship's side, would change his frown into a smile in spite of himself; and often he'd cast a sheep's-eye at me, as much as to say: "You see, Robins! What can a fellow do with a craft like this in tow!"

'Sometimes she'd declare she must learn to steer, and come and put her little white hands on the spokes of the wheel, making-believe that she was watching the compass in the binnacle, whilst I was afraid of crushing her tiny fingers with my great knotty fists; and so the ship would come up in the wind, setting all the sails a-shaking, and then she'd clap her hands together, and call Harry, that was her husband, to see the mischief she'd done, her blue eyes kindling with delight, and her long golden hair floating over her shoulders like a mermaid's. I believe I was a bit of a favourite with her, as I always took care to keep myself clean and tidy, and to have a civil tongue in my head. There was something so innocent and winning about the girl, too, always ready to do a good turn, or to put in a kind word for any one, that we got to look upon her as a sort of angel or fairy. Anyhow, this much I'll say-I've sailed in scores of ships in my time, but I never heard less swearing on board any ship before or since than aboard of the Maid of Orleans. Well, sir, we'd been out about three weeks, the weather fine, with light breezes; and though we pumped rather more water out of the ship than we liked to see, there was nothing particular to growl about. I was so comfortable, and things went on so smoothly, that I'd well nigh forgotten all about the talk I'd overheard at the public-house, when one evening it all came back upon me on a sudden. For the last few hours the clouds had been gathering heavy from the north'ard; the wind shifted and jibed round; the skipper looked anxious, and I heard him tell the mate that the barometer was falling, and that we should have dirty weather before night. The watch were employed in odd jobs about the decks; and being in want of a coil of spun yarn, the boatswain sent me down into the storeroom to fetch it. The place was pitch dark, so I was obliged to take a lantern with me; and after groping about for some time, I found what I was in search of, close to the foremast, that ran through the storeroom. I was picking it up, when the light of the lantern fell upon some letters roughly cut into the mast, as if some idle young scamp had amused himself by carving his name with his jack-knife. Thinks I to

51

myself, let's see what mark the fellow has left. I raised the lantern, and as I made out the letters, a shiver ran through my very bones. There, as sure as death itself was the word Reindeer cut out clear and distinct upon the timber! You could have knocked me down with a feather; my knees trembled under me; a sort of dumbness came over my mind as I read again and again, scarce knowing what I did, that fatal word. The horrible talk I had overheard in the public-house seemed dinned into my ears, mingled with the hoarse rush of the mocking waters, that seethed and foamed round the ship, as if reminding me that they were only biding their time to swallow us up in a living tomb. As I sat, dazed and frightened it was the wickedness that frightened me, more than all the rest-on a coil of hawser, with a sort of horror in my heart, I heard the boatswain's voice shouting for the hands to shorten sail, and I sprang up the ladder to the deck. There was no time to be lost; a squall had struck us, the topsail halyards had been let go by the run, the sails were flapping about like thunder, and all hands shortening sail for dear life.

'We soon got the ship under double-reefed topsails, with a stiff gale blowing, the sky black and ugly, and the sea getting up, promising tough work before the night was out; but if it hadn't been for what I'd seen below, the gale might have blowed itself blue in the face without my troubling myself about it. Well, as the dog-watch from six to eight was well nigh over, I thought I wouldn't say anything to the skipper afore morning; but somehow my mind couldn't rest easy; it was no use frightening my shipmates; so, after a deal of tacking about in my mind, I determined to make a clean breast of it; for, thinks I, if he knows anything, there's no harm done; and if he doesn't, he'll be warned in time. Well, sir, I hung about the quarter-deck waiting till the skipper came below, and then I sent the steward in to say I wanted to speak a word with him.

"Well, my man," says he, “what do you want?" "Excuse me, sir,” I says, "but I've got a queer yarn to tell you." So I up and told him from beginning to end. As I finished, his face was ghastly pale; his eyes wandered to the door of the cabin, where his beautiful young wife was lying, and his hands were clenched convulsively together. He didn't utter a sound, but seemed as if he was awaking out of a dream, putting things together bit by bit, till it was all clear to him as the noon-day sun. Presently, he lifted up his eyes, and clasped his hands, saying: "0 God, help my poor wife!" and though he was a strong, hearty young fellow, there was a tear trickling down his cheek as if he'd been a woman. I don't think he was conscious of my presence just then; the shock had dazed him, like; he knew better than I thought how he'd been caught in a trap; how he'd been betrayed by a villain, a false, black-hearted villain; and the hopelessness of escape paralysed him. For my part, I'd expected nothing of this kind; I was not behind the scenes so much as he; so, though I'd felt it my duty to make a report, yet I hoped the skipper would only laugh at me, and call me a fool for my pains. Leastways, I'd said to myself, most likely, after all, he'll be able to explain the affair, and set my mind easy. When I saw him like this, my heart failed me. I had a poor girl, too, that was as

precious to me as his wife to him. So I says: "I suppose there's no doubt, sir, of this ship being the old Reindeer?"

'He looked up at me with such a face of horror and despair as I hope never to see again on mortal man. It moved me so, rough fellow though I was, and not much given to feeling, that I could have cried like a child. It was his wife, his bride, the cheery, loving, laughing girl yonder, that was tearing his heart, to think he had dragged her to a floating tomb, and become a murderer, like, of the creature he'd have died for!

"It is true, Robins! Heaven have mercy upon us! My wife! my poor wife!"

'Just then, the door of the cabin opened, and the beautiful face of his wife, with a bonny smile lighting on it up, peeped into the cuddy (I think she had rather gloried in the noise and confusion of the squall), thinking her husband was alone, no doubt, for her hair was falling loosely over her shoulders, and she was partly undressed.

"Harry, dear," she says in a cheerful voice, for his back was toward her, and I was standing well back in the shade, "when are you coming?"

'Her voice seemed to electrify the skipper; his face became livid with passion; but he answered quietly enough: "I am engaged for a few minutes, Lillie; I will be with you presently."

'When she was gone, the skipper turned upon me almost fiercely.

"I am betrayed, Robins, ruined, ay, murdered! But woe to the man who has done it! The vengeance of Heaven will light upon him, and blight him and his ! Don't mention this affair to a soul; it can do no good. Poor fellows, it is no fault of mine. It will only unman them, and we must do what we can to save ourselves, in spite of these villains. Then let them look out!" There was a gleam in his eye as he said this that meant mischief, though he was as quiet and good-natured a man as ever I sailed with. "Send the carpenter to me; and not a word, on your life."

'I left the cuddy with a dark fear in my heart that I had never known before; our doom was sealed, sure enough, thought I; a mere question of time; a few hours more, perhaps, and these fiends would clutch the blood-money. There was murder, I'm afeard, in more than one heart that night on board of the Maid of Orleans. "Man the pumps!" was the first cry I heard when I got on deck, and I shuddered from head to foot.

"There's a deal of water in her," the boatswain muttered as I passed him on my way to deliver the message to the carpenter.

'It was my middle watch, that is, from twelve to four, so I turned into my bunk pretty well knocked up with the work of the day, but for the life of me I couldn't get a wink of sleep. The skipper haunted me with his wild despairing face, and seemed to reproach me with not having spoken before; and then the soft loving eyes of his wife pleading for mercy, poor young thing, ay, there they were, once so bright and merry, pleading with the villains who had betrayed her husband, and sent them both to sea in a living tomb! Then I thought of Polly, and wondered what she was doing, and whether she was saying a prayer for poor Jack Robins. I dozed off at last, but was soon roused by a man coming into the forecastle and grumbling to a chum of his.

"Then the man, having lighted his pipe, sneaked out again, whilst old Jones turned over, to make the best use of his time.

"Eight bells struck at last, and as it was my time at the wheel, I turned out smart. The vessel was labouring heavily in an ugly sea, under closereefed topsails, and the wind whistled through the rigging like the hiss of an angry fiend. The dull jerking sound of the pumps, at which four of the watch were working, told its own tale; and as I reached the poop, the carpenter came up from below with a face as white as a ghost. He went aft to the skipper, and I guessed pretty well what sort of a report he had to make.

The ship, too deeply laden, was straining and groaning in the waters like a wearied horse, each wave that broke against her sending a quiver through her frame, opening up the weak spots in her hull, that let the cruel water in at each fresh blow. It was an awful feeling that stole over me just then. If she had sprung a leak in the ordinary course of things, I should have taken as a mishap all she might meet with, and been the first to cheer up, and run the risk of life with a light heart; but to know for certain that we were doomed beforehand, that we were the victims of a plot, our lives sacrificed for profit, our blood held of no account by a set of inhuman monsters-this cut to my very soul, raising a storm of savage wrath within me such as I never felt before or since.

"Pump, poor wretches!" I exclaimed to myself; "ay, pump your arms off; but it's no use! a steam-engine couldn't save us!"

"A sail on the lee-bow."

'The voice came like an angel's through the roar of the elements. The boy, a smart, chubby-faced lad, who was a general favourite on board, poor fellow! had been sent aloft to secure the topgallant-sail, that was blowing itself loose from the gaskets, and his cry sent a thrill of hope through my heart.

Ay, ay!" shouted the skipper; "weather main brace. Keep her away a couple of points, Robins."

'There was a terrible excitement in the skipper's eye as he spoke to me, and a hard ring in his voice, that told its own tale.

"Jump aloft there, Mr Short, and see what you can make of her!" says he to the mate; then turning again to me, he added: "It's our only chance, Robins; the carpenter reports four feet of water in her. Thank Heaven for this mercy!"

"A large vessel under double-reefed topsails, close-hauled," reported the mate as he came down from aloft, for the clouds had broken away from the moon just then, and the wind slackened a bit. "Get the rockets up, Mr Short, and the bluelights ready."

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Ay, ay, sir!" replied Short, as good a seaman as ever trod a plank.

'Meantime, with the yards squared, and a reef shaken out of the topsails, the Maid was rushing over the waters, as if anxious to give her doomed crew a chance of rescue, before the greedy ocean should swallow her in its huge maw; whilst, as she rose on the crests of the waves, I could distinguish