sickness, the rigid face of the corpse, and the calm sleep of the child-midnight was upon them all.

The hour had not struck two minutes, when a young lady, accompanied by a grey-haired gentleman, alighted from a hackney-carriage within a short distance of the bridge, and, having dismissed the vehicle, walked straight towards it. They had scarcely set foot upon the pavement, when the girl started, and immediately made towards them.

They walked onwards, looking about them with the air of persons who entertained some very slight expectation which had little chance of being realized, when they were suddenly joined by this new associate. They halted with an exclamation of surprise, but suppressed it immediately, for a man in the garments of a countryman came close up - brushed against them indeed-at that precise mo

ment.

place, and so eager was the spy to pene trate the motives of an interview so different from what he had been led to expect, that he more than once gave the matter up for lost, and persuaded himself either they had stopped far above, or re sorted to some entirely different spot to hold their mysterious conversation. He was on the very point of emerging from his hiding-place, and regaining the road above, when he heard the sound of footsteps, and directly afterwards of voices almost close to his ear.

He drew himself straight upright against the wall, and scarcely breathing, listened attentively.

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This is far enough," said a voice which was evidently that of the gentleman. "I will not suffer the young lady to go any further. Many people would have distrusted you too much to have come even so far, but you see I am willing to humour you."

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As she uttered these words, and indicated with her hand the direction in which she wished them to proceed, the countryman looked round, and roughly asking what they took up the whole pavement for, passed on.

The steps to which the girl had pointed were those which, on the Surrey bank and on the same side of the bridge as Saint Saviour's church, form a landingstairs from the river. To this spot the man, bearing the appearance of a countryman, hastened unobserved; and after a moment's survey of the place, he began to descend.

These stairs are a part of the bridge; they consist of three flights. Just below the end of the second going down, the stone wall on the left terminates in an ornamental pilaster, facing towards the Thames. At this point the lower steps widen, so that a person turning that angle of the wall is necessarily unseen by any others on the stairs who chance to be above him, if only a step.

Noah looked hastily round when he reached this point, and as there seemed no better place of concealment, and, the tide being out, there was plenty of room, he slipped aside, with his back to the pilaster, and there waited, pretty certain that they would come no lower, and that even if he could not hear what was said, ne could follow them again with safety.

So tardily stole the time in this lonely

"Why; for what," said the gentleman, in a kinder tone, "for what purpose can you have brought us to this strange place? Why not have let me speak to you above there, where it is light, and there is something stirring, instead of bringing us to this dark and dismal hole?"

"I told you before," replied Nancy "that I was afraid to speak to you there I don't know why it is," said the gir shuddering, "but I have such a fear and dread upon me to-night that I can hardly stand."

“A fear of what?" asked the gentleman, who seemed to pity her.

“I scarcely know of what,” replied the girl. "I wish I did. Horrible thoughts of death, and shrouds with blood upon them, and a fear that has made me burn as if I was on fire, have been upon me all day. I was reading a book to-night to while the time away, and the same things came into the print."

"Imagination," said the gentleman, soothing her.

"No imagination,” replied the girl in a hoarse voice. "I'll swear I saw coffin' written in every page of the book in large black letters-ay, and they carried one close to me in the streets to night.”

"There is nothing unusual in that,” said the gentleman. "They have passed me often."

"This

"Real ones," rejoined the girl. was not." There was something so uncommon in her manner that the flesh of the concealed listener crept as he heard the girl utter these words, and the blood chilled within him. He had never experienced a greater relief than hearing the sweet voice of the young lady, as she begged her to be calm and not allow herself to become the prey of such fearful fancies.

"Speak to her kindly," said the young lady to her companion. "Poor creature! she seems to need it."

"Your haughty religious people would have held their heads up to see me as I am to-night, and preached of flames and vengeance," cried the girl. "Oh dear lady, why ain't those who claim to be God's own folks as gentle and as kind to us poor wretches as you, who, having youth and beauty and all that they have lost, might be a little proud instead of so much humbler ?"

"Ah!" said the gentleman. "A Turk turns his face, after washing it well, to the East when he says his prayers; these good people, after giving their faces such a rub with the world as takes the smiles off, turn with no less regularity to the darkest side of heaven. Between the Mussulman and the Pharisee, commend me to the former."

These words appeared to be addressed to the younger lady, and were perhaps uttered with the view of affording Nancy time to recover herself. The gentleman shortly afterwards addressed himself to her.

"No," replied the girl shaking her head. "It's not very easy for me to leave him unless he knows why; I could n't have seen the lady when I did, but that I gave him a drink of laudanum before I came away."

"Did he awake before you returned ?" rejoined the gentleman.

"No, and neither he nor any of them suspect me."

"Good," said the gentleman: "now listen to me.

"I am ready,” replied the girl, as he paused for a moment.

"This young lady," the gentleman be gan, "has communicated to me and some other friends, who can be safely trusted, what you told her nearly a fortnight since. I confess to you that I had doubts at first, whether you were to be implicitly relied upon, but now I firmly believe you are." "I am," said the girl earnestly.

"I repeat, that I firmly believe it. To prove to you that I am disposed to trust you, I tell you without reserve, that we purpose to extort the secret, whatever it may be, from the fears of this man Monks. But if-if-" said the gentleman, “he cannot be secured, or, if secured, he cannot be acted upon as we wish, you must deliver up the Jew."

"Fagin !" cried the girl, recoiling. "That man must be delivered up by you," said the gentleman.

"I will not do it-I will never do it"replied the girl. "Devil that he is, and worse than devil as he has been to me, I will never do that."

"You will not?" said the gentleman, who seemed fully prepared for this answer. Never," returned the girl. "Tell me why."

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"For one reason," rejoined the girl firmly," for one reason that the lady knows and will stand by me in-I know she will, for I have her promise; and for this other reason besides, that bad life as he has led, I have led a bad life too: there are many of us who have kept the same courses together, and I'll not turn upon them, who might, any of them, have turned upon me, but didn't, bad as they

are.

"Then," said the gentleman quickly, as if this had been the point he had been aiming to attain, "put Monks into my hands, and leave me to deal with him.”

"What if he turns against the others?"

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I promise you in that case, if the truth is forced from him, there the matter will rest. There must be circumstances in Oliver's little history which it would be painful to drag before the public eye, and if the truth is once elicited, they will go Scot free."

"And if it is not?" suggested the girl. "Then," pursued the gentleman, "this Jew shall not be brought to justice without your consent. In such a case I could show you reasons, I think, which would induce you to yield it.”

"You have," replied Rose, "my true and faithful pledge."

"Monks would never learn how you knew what you do?" said the girl, after a short pause.

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"Never," replied the gentleman. "The intelligence should be so brought to bear upon him that he could never even guess." "I have been a liar and among liars from a little child," said the girl, after another interval of silence, "but I will take your words."

After receiving an assurance from both, that she might safely do so, she proceeded in a voice so low that it was often difficult for the listener to discover even the purport of what she said, to describe by name and situation the public house whence she had been followed that night. From the manner in which she occasionally paused, it appeared as if the gentleman were making some hasty notes of the information she communicated. When she had thoroughly explained the localities of the place, the best position from which to watch it without exciting observation, and the night and hour on which Monks was most in the habit of frequenting it, she seemed to consider a few moments for the purpose of recalling his features and appearance more forcibly to her recollection.

"He is tall," said the girl, "and a strongly made man, but not stout; he has a lurking walk, and, as he walks, constantly looks over his shoulder, first on one side and then on the other. Don't forget that, for his eyes are sunk in his head so much deeper than any other man's, that you might almost tell him by this alone. His face is dark like his hair and eyes; but, although he can't be more than six or eight and twenty, withered and haggard. His lips are often discotoured and disfigured with the marks of teeth, for he has desperate fits, and sometimes even bites his hands, and covers them with wounds-why did you start?" said the girl, stopping suddenly.

The gentleman replied in a hurried manner, that he was not conscious of having done so, and begged her to proceed.

"Part of this," said the girl, “I've drawn out from other people at the house 1 tell you of, for I have only seen him twice, and both times he was covered up in a large cloak. I think that's all I can give you to know him by. Stay though," she added, "upon his throat, so high that you can see a part of it below his

is

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"A broad red mark, like a burn or scald," cried the gentleman.

"How's this?" said the girl; "you know him."

The young lady uttered a cry of extreme surprise, and for a few moments they were so still that the listener could distinctly hear them breathe.

"I think I do," said the gentleman, breaking silence. "I should, by your description; we shall see. Many people are singularly like each other though—it may not be the same."

As he expressed himself to this effect, with assumed carelessness, he took a step or two nearer Noah, as he could tell from the distinctness with which he heard him utter-" It must be he!"

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so it

Now," he said, returning seemed by the sound-to the spot where he had stood before, "you have given us most valuable assistance, young woman, and I wish you to be the better for it. What can I do to serve you?"

"Nothing," replied Nancy.

"You will not persist in saying that," rejoined the gentleman with a voice and emphasis of kindness that might have touched a much harder and more obdurate heart. "Think now; tell me."

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ing.

Nothing, sir," rejoined the girl, weep"You can do nothing to help me. I am past all hope, indeed."

"You put yourself beyond its pale," said the gentleman; "the past has been a dreary waste with you of youthful energies misspent, and such priceless treasures lavished as the Creator bestows but once, and never grants again; but for the future you may hope. I do not say that it is in our power to offer you peace of heart and mind, for that must come as you seek it, but a quiet asylum either in England, or, if you fear to remain here, in some foreign country, it is not only within the compass of our ability, but our most anxious wish to secure to you. Before the dawn of morning, before this river wakes to the fresh glimpse of daylight, you shall be placed as entirely beyond the reach of your former associates, and leave as utter an absence of all traces behind you, as if you were to disappear from the earth this moment. Come. I would not have you go back to exchange one word with any old companion, or take one look at any old haunt, or breathe the very air which is pestilence and death to you. Quit them all while there is time and opportunity."