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either. The brute was rushing blindly ahead; she made a despairing and fruitless attempt to steady him; then she shut her eyes. Immediately came a crash; a sensation as if the whole world was breaking up into fragments, a brilliant display of fireworks - and the next thing of which Miss Brune was fully conscious was that she was sitting in a ploughed field, with her hair hanging over her face, and the hills and sky revolving in a most extraordinary manner round her.

that; but she tugged as hard as she much doubted whether Wasp ever had could, just by way of letting him know that she was there, and, finding that her efforts produced no effect whatever, made the best of what could not be helped, sat well back, and wished for the end. Even in that moment of dire distress, she found a grain of comfort in the reflection that she was in no danger of heading the fox. Thundering down a declivity almost as steep as the proverbial side of a house, with the ground flying from under her like running water, an aspiration flashed across her mind, akin to that in which the unfortunate bricklayer is said to have found time to indulge between the top of a Parisian scaffolding and the pavement of the street below, Oh, mon Dieu! pourvu que ça dure!" If nothing hap pens between this and that!" she thought. By "that" she meant the slope on the further side of the valley, where, supposing that she ever got there, she felt tolerably sure of being able to check her headlong career.

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But, alas! Wasp had thought of that too; or, if he had not thought of it, instinct told him to head down the valley, and to round the base of the hill behind which the red coats had vanished. Somehow or other, he and his helpless load reached level ground; somehow or other Nellie never knew how-they traversed a road, a ditch, and a small brook; and now they were racing across a stretch of open country, and were gaining upon the last of the horsemen. But owing to some inequalities in the ground, only the heads and shoulders of these were visible, and in a minute or two the tops of their hats had disappeared. It was then that Nellie became aware of a new peril, and a more formidable one than any of those from which she had escaped. Directly before her was a ragged black hedgerow which looked both high and thick; and since nothing but a glimmer of grey sky could be discerned through it, it seemed évident that there must be a drop of unknown depth on the other side. Nellie took this in at a glance, and at the same moment a sickening suspicion of wire crossed her mind. Although this was her first experience of following the hounds (for Mr. Brune had old-fashioned prejudices with reference to the appearance of ladies in the hunting-field) she had often ridden across country with her brothers, and was not afraid of any obstacle of moderate size; but she knew that she had never been over such a big thing as this in her life; and, what was worse, she very |

After wondering for a moment whether she was dead or alive, and satisfying her. self that her head was still upon her shoulders, she raised herself on to her knees; and perhaps some people would have profited by that position to return thanks for deliverance from sudden death. Nellie, however, must have inherited the instincts of a sportswoman; for the first thing that suggested itself to her mind was not this obvious duty, but the expediency of catching her horse, whom she saw at the other end of the field, trotting round with his head in the air, and in a state of bewilderment evidently quite equal to her own. Some people, again, would have been very willing to let that headstrong beast go his own way, and would not have cared to give him a second chance of breaking a Christian neck; but this was by no means Nellie's view of the case. She knew that Wasp would have had quite enough of running away for one day, and that, if by any means she could contrive to hoist herself upon his back, he would let himself be ridden home as submissively as could be wished.

To catch a loose horse is, however, one of those things which are more easily determined upon than carried into execution, and the difficulty is not lessened when the pursuer happens to be in a somewhat unsteady condition as to head and legs, and to be further encumbered with a torn riding-habit. Nellie plunged across the furrows as best she could, and when she got near her horse, called him by name; whereupon he cocked his ears, neighed, and waited for her to approach. He then flung up his head, and went off at a gallop. Nellie now proceeded to stalk him patiently and warily into a corner, he lending himself to the design and watching her movements with much apparent interest. When she was within a few yards of him, up went his head again, and away he cantered into another corner, whither she laboriously followed him. This manoeuvre was repeated for the

space of half an hour; at the end of which time Miss Brune's patience and strength alike gave way, and she felt very much disposed to sit down in the dirt and cry. Wasp, too, had seemingly become tired of the game. There was a gap in the hedge at the further end of the field which a less stupid animal would have taken advantage of long before. He now scrambled through it, and was promptly lost to sight. The thunder of his retreat ing hoofs was heard for a few minutes; and then there was complete silence and solitude.

"What am I to do!" exclaimed Nellie, half laughing, half crying. Her hat was a shapeless ruin, her habit was in rags, her face was bleeding from the scratches of the briery hedge, she was covered with mud from head to foot, and she was a good five miles from home. As to what she was to do, that was a question which demanded no long consideration, there being only one thing to be done: she must make her way home on foot. But, although Miss Brune soon realized this necessity, she was not at all so sure that her strength was equal to the task that lay before her. She began to feel the effects of her fall in aching limbs and a swimming head, and the exercise which she had taken in the last half-hour had reduced her to something very like complete exhaustion. However, she stumbled out of the ploughed field, crossed a pasture, and ere long struck a faintlymarked track which she knew would lead her across the downs to Broom Leas.

The experienced novel-reader will perceive that the moment has now arrived for the introduction upon the scene of the deus ex machina; and sure enough before Nellie had plodded a quarter of a mile between the cart-ruts that marked her path, he duly made his appearance in the form of one whom she had supposed to be many miles away at that time. In her sorry plight, dignity and conventionality were burdens too petty to be remembered accordingly, when the equestrian who was approaching her at a foot's pace pulled up, and exclaimed, in accents of stupefaction, "God bless my soul! is that Miss Brune?" she replied with unaffected warmth,

"Oh, Mr. Stanniforth, I am so delighted to see you! I began to think I should have to lie down and die in a ditch."

Mr. Stanniforth had at once dismounted, and was too busy inquiring into the nature of the accident that had befallen Miss Brune to give any explanation of

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his own presence. It was not until she had assured him at least a dozen times that she had received no hurt beyond a few scratches, and that all she at present desired was to find some means of reaching home before the spectacle of the riderless grey should have frightened her father out of his senses, that he consented to give an account of himself. He was staying at Longbourne, he said. He had come down quite suddenly, finding that he had a few days at his disposal; he had ridden out after luncheon, in hopes that he might fall in with the hounds, but had failed to do so, and was now very glad indeed that he had failed.

"I suppose Mrs. Winnington and Edith have come back," observed Nellie, who had now had time to bethink herself of many things which the first sight of a friendly face had driven out of her remembrance, and whose manner had consequently become much more formal.

"No, they haven't," answered Tom, glancing at her quickly; "they aresomewhere or other. Margaret told me where it was, but I'm sure I forget. Why should you suppose they had returned?

"Oh, I don't know; I thought perhaps they might," answered Miss Brune with ostentatious carelessness. "I wish I could get home somehow; my father will certainly think I am killed. Can't you suggest something?"

"Well-unless you were to ride my horse. But you could hardly do that."

"No, hardly. There is a farmhouse about a mile further on which I could easily find my way to; and if they only knew at home that I was there, they could send for me. Couldn't you ride on and tell them?"

"Yes, I could do that, of course," answered Mr. Stanniforth slowly, and with evident reluctance. "But I don't think you ought to be left alone here."

"Why not?" inquired Nellie, turning an astonished pair of eyes upon him. "What harm could possibly happen to me? I should be so very much obliged if you would go on as quickly as you can ; it would be so much the best way."

"If you tell me to go I must go; but I feel sure that your father would much prefer my seeing you into a place of safety. You really are not fit to walk without help, and if you will allow me to give you my arm

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Nellie said she was perfectly well able to walk by herself, and required both her hands to hold up her habit.

"And besides," continued Tom, "my

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getting to Broom Leas a quarter of an hour sooner or later can make very little difference. Either your horse has gone straight back to his stables, in which case he is there by this time, or he has gone off in the other direction which from your account seems more likely and will probably be heard of next in Crayminster. Do let me take you as far as that farm, and I promise you that the moment I have handed you over to the farmer's wife, I will be off to Broom Leas like the wind."

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Nellie did not give her consent to this arrangement; but, as she did not withhold it either, Mr. Stanniforth let well alone, and said no more. They walked on, side by side, in silence for some little time, and then he took up the conversation at the point where it had been broken off.

"Did you mean to say just now," he asked abruptly, "that it must have been in order to see the Winningtons that I had come here?"

"Really, I had not thought much about the matter. It wouldn't be very extraordinary if you had come here in order to see them, would it? I thought you liked them so much."

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66 Thanks; I don't care to know at all," interrupted Nellie hastily; for in an instant she had guessed what was coming, and she was determined to stop it, if she could. "Where have you been since you left these parts?"

Had she known Mr. Stanniforth as well as some of his colleagues in the House of Commons knew him, she would have been aware that to stop that excellent man when once he had made up his mind to deliver himself of a statement was to the full as hopeless a task as to pull up Wasp in mid-career.

"All right," he answered cheerfully; "then I'll tell you, though you don't care to hear. I should have to tell you sooner or later, and why not now as well as at any other time? I came here because I hoped to see you."

It was then that the impossibility of assuming a cold and majestic mien with a broken hat cocked rakishly over one eye, and a countenance disfigured by many scratches, made itself painfully manifest to Miss Brune,

"Well," she said, laughing nervously, "you have seen me now, and it is to be hoped that you are satisfied. I sincerely trust that no other stranger will see me for at least a week."

"But you don't call me a stranger, do you?" asked Tom reproachfully. And, getting no answer to this query, he continued, in a low and slightly hoarse voice, "Miss Brune, I am generally considered to be a tolerably ready speaker; but there are some things that a man feels too strongly about to be able to express in the best words; and I don't know how to say what I am going to say to you, though heaven knows I have thought about it often enough." He paused for a moment. "There is a great deal that might be said about difference of age and other things," he resumed, "but perhaps you will understand, without my mentioning it, that I fully feel the force of all that, and that I am not making use of any conventional form of words when I say that I know myself to be not nearly good enough for you. Only this I can say for myself, that I never loved any woman but you in my life, and never shall. It is rather odd for a man of my age to be able to make such an assertion; but I don't know, after all, why it should help me much. It all comes to much the same thing in the end. It's just a case of yes

Or no."

Having put the case in this very explicit manner, Mr. Stanniforth stood still, and paused for a reply.

Now to be driven into a corner is what no woman likes; and Nellie considered that she had especial reason for resenting such treatment.

"If I had supposed for one moment that you were going to speak in this way," she said tremulously, "I should not have allowed you to walk with me. I don't think you ought to-to have taken advantage of

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"But is it to be yes or no?" persisted this somewhat peremptory wooer, too eager for his answer to notice the appeal made to his generosity. "Only tell me that, and I won't say another word."

"Oh, dear," exclaimed Nellie, bursting into a rather hysterical laugh, "how ridic ulous this is! I wonder whether anybody in the world but you would ever have dreamt of choosing such a time as this to- to mention such a subject. I can't think of anything at all, except of how dreadfully tired I am. Is that the farm over there? Oh, I hope it is."

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"But, Miss Brune Nellie won't you just tell me whether it is to be no?" Very well, then," cried Nellie, stamping her foot in exasperation, “it is no of course it is no! I didn't want to be disagreeable, but you will have it. It is no; I can't say anything more."

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It was true enough that she could not say anything more. The agitations of the day had completely broken down her selfcontrol at last, and, despite all her efforts, the tears had forced their way into her eyes. It was all that she could do to avoid disgracing herself by bursting into audible weeping.

But Tom Stanniforth, who was looking straight before him, did not see these signs of distress. Not another word did he speak until they had reached the farmhouse and he had delivered his charge into the hands of the farmer's wife. But just before he mounted his horse he held out his hand to Nellie, and said,

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Good-bye, Miss Brune. I shan't bother you by letting you see me again till you have forgotten all this. I am sorry if I caused you any annoyance just now; and I know you are kind-hearted enough to be a little sorry for me too. It was quite true, what I told you about my never caring for anybody else. I hope you'll believe that, and that you'll forgive me if I have seemed a little presumptuI had to say it, you know." Nellie nodded, being unable to find her voice; and so he rode off, and was soon out of sight.

ous.

Late that evening Mr. Brune, who had scoured the country far and wide in search of his daughter, and had thus been spared the shock of encountering Wasp, who had trotted quietly back to the stables, remarked that Tom Stanniforth really seemed to have behaved with great sense and consideration.

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I shall always like Tom," he said; a true gentleman in every way, whatever you may say about his pedigree. I can't understand what you find to dislike in him."

"I don't dislike him," answered Nellie humbly; "I think he is very kind."

"But you look down upon him, Lord knows why! One gets odd ideas into one's head; I suppose it's a sign of old age creeping on," continued Mr. Brune musingly; "but I couldn't help thinking to-day what a capital thing it would have been if you and he had taken to each other, and if he had married you instead of Edith. Don't make faces, my dear, I am only indulging in speculations; and,

dear me! what a speculation that would have been, when you come to think of it! I suppose Tom Stanniforth will be one of the richest men in England; and, upon my word, I believe he will be one of the best husbands too. I don't grudge Mrs. Winnington her luck; but it must be confessed that she does have luck."

Nellie made no answer, except to point out that it was long past bed-time.

...

From The Gentleman's Magazine. EGYPTIAN DERVISHES.

" What if to THEE, in THINE Infinity.
These multiform and many-colored creeds

Seem but the robe man wraps as masquer's weeds
Round the one living truth THOU givest him- THEE?
What if these varied forms that worship prove
(Being heart-worship) reach THY perfect ear
But as a monotone, complete and clear,

Of which the music is (through Christ's Name) Love?
Forever rising in sublime increase

To-Glory in the Highest-on earth peace." "

NOTHING can be more strangely diverse than the impression produced on the mind by the motley faiths of Africa, to one coming direct from the comparative uniformity of worship in Europe, or to one returning from India a land which (in addition to harboring all these) claims thirty-three million deities of its own. To the former, the medley of Mahommedans and Jews, Copts, Armenians, Greeks, and all other Christian varieties, seems so strangely incongruous while to the latter, the absence of idolatry, and the knowledge that all these nations are worshippers of one God, seems to raise them to one broad level; and though, practically, we know too well how they hate one another, and wrestle, and jostle, and fight for the corpse of truth, still, we remember that one golden thread does run through all their creeds; and though the land is divided in its observance of holy days Friday, Saturday, or (in a minimum degree) Sunday, the mere fact of obedience to the same commandment seems something of a bond, which, theoretically, should link them all together.

As a mere question of scenic effect, it must be confessed that these more solemn forms of worship, and the abhorrence of all manner of graven images, do disappoint the eye which has become accustomed to grotesque and curious forms, masses of rich carving, and gaudy processions; and has forgotten its first feeling of disgust and horror at the puerile absurdities of a gross idolatry.

As you wander about in Cairo every

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new turn brings you to the door of one |
of the four hundred mosques, which seem
to take up a vast proportion of every
street; their domes and minarets are all
more or less diverse in form and decora-
tion; most of the minarets are octagonal;
having many galleries, and richly moulded
balustrades. Often the walls bear in-
scriptions from the Khoran, and very
intricate arabesques. Still, on the whole,
there is a great sameness in them, and
the eye wearies of the perpetual lines of
red and white paint. The interiors are,
also, much alike, simple, solemn, silent,
and for the most part carpeted, instead
of the polished marble of the Indian
mosques. On one side, a deep recess,
called the kiblah, marks the direction of
Mecca, and shows the devout Mahomme-
dan where to turn his face. There is also
a mimbar, or pulpit, where lies a copy of
the Khoran, whence the imam expounds
to the faithful.

All the "show" mosques, which are frequented by European visitors, keep a supply of woollen overshoes ready, to slip over their dusty boots, which is considered equivalent to removing them, and more 'convenient; not a very "outré" mark of respect to Eastern customs; nevertheless, one which, with the rude British habit of despising everything foreign, occasionally gives half-fledged lads an excuse for "chaffing" quiet, dignified greybeards to an extent very annoying to witness. It is never pleasant to see your countrymen assuming an utterly false position, and certainly no more perfect type of dignity and impudence could well be found, than occasionally shocks both eye and ear, when a wretched little Briton (too often possessed of snub features, and clad in ill-cut broadcloth) presumes to give himself consequential airs with these stately Orientals, who invariably treat him with the courtesy of conscious superiority. But if this sort of thing is disgusting on ordinary occasions, it is tenfold worse when you come across it in one of these grand, solemn mosques, for it really seems as if travelling Britons could not recognize "holy ground" anywhere, save in their own chapels.

Of course, the turbaned men invariably expect a tip; but for that matter, what would the verger of a cathedral think if you failed to produce this customary tribute? After all, the petition for "back sheesh" is only equivalent to the old English cry of "largesse;" and though that word may now be obsolete, the custom still prevails, and the hand goes to the

pocket just as often in the West as in the East, and for much larger coins - the only difference lies in not being asked.

One of the mosques to which unbelievers are not admitted, is the Mosque of Flowers, where a carpet of superb embroidery of gold and silks is annually worked with infinite reverence, and is sent to Mecca as a covering for the tomb of the Prophet. Though commonly called "the holy carpet," this Kiswet e' Nebbee is really a curtain. It is a hanging of rich silk, on which sacred sentences in Arabic are embroidered in gold, and it is designed as a lining for the Káaba, which is the temple of Mecca, the holy of holies of the Mahommedan world. I believe that Roberts (who, when painting in the East, adopted Eastern raiment) was one of the few foreigners who have ever found his way into this most holy workroom; but his presence being detected, he was compelled to fly for his life, and was considered fortunate, indeed, to have escaped paying the penalty of his rash curiosity. When the sacred carpet is to be despatched, about forty thousand pilgrims accompany the offering, which is borne by a sacred camel, led by a very holy dervish, "the great Hadji."

This vast concourse of people encamp on the plain, beside the Mosque of Hassan; then passing through Bab e Nusr (the Gate of Victory), the pilgrimage of the Haag starts on its long, toilsome journey.

Halting first at Birket el Haag, the lake of the pilgrims, they make their way by slow marches till they reach the peninsula of Mount Sinai, and thence travel through Arabia till they reach the holy city of Mecca, where it is theoretically supposed that seventy thousand pilgrims, representing all the Mahommedan nations, ought to assemble to witness the ceremonies of this great festival. It is said that, should the faithful fail to muster the requisite number of worshippers, the angels assemble to make up the missing number.

The pilgrims march in procession seven times round the Káaba, and kiss the most holy black stone, which was held sacred by the Arabs long before the days of Mahomet, who deemed it prudent to adopt it, and to cause it to be built into the corner of this most sacred shrine.

One curious ceremony is practised the day before the pilgrims reach Mecca. They ascend the sacred Mount Arafat, where they offer sacrifice, to commem. orate the sacrifice by Abraham of the ram in lieu of his son Ishmael (not Isaac).

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