a maid, and a footman, I suppose; and thus we will order

it.

I know it will be hard weather: I know it will: and before there can be the least suspicion of the matter, we shall be in sight of Guernsey, Jersey, Dieppe, Cherbourg, or anywhither on the French coast that it shall please us to agree with the winds to blow us; and then, securing the footman, and the women being separated, one of us, according to lots that may be cast, shall overcome, either by persuasion or force, the maid-servant; that will be no hard task; and she is a likely wench (I have seen her often): one, Mrs. Howe; nor can there be much difficulty there, for she is full of health and life, and has been long a widow; another (that, says the princely lion, must be I), the saucy daughter, who will be too much frighted to make great resistance (violent spirits in that sex are seldom true spirits 'tis but where they can); and after beating about the coast for three or four days for recreation's sake, and to make sure work, and till we see our sullen birds begin to eat and sip, we will set them all ashore where it will be most convenient; sell the vessel (to Mrs. Townsend's agents, with all my heart, or to some other smugglers) or give it to Ganmore; and pursue our travels, and tarry abroad till all is hushed up.

Now I know thou wilt make difficulties, as it is thy way; while it is mine to conquer them. My other vassals made theirs, and I condescended to obviate them, as thus I will thine, first stating them for thee according to what I know of thy phlegm.

What, in the first place, wilt thou ask, shall be done with Hickman? who will be in full parade of dress and primness, in order to show the old aunt what a devilish clever fellow of a nephew she is to have.

What! I'll tell thee: Hickman, in good manners, will leave the women in their cabin, and, to show his courage with his breeding, be upon deck

VOL. II.

H

Well, and suppose he is?

Suppose he is! Why then I hope it is easy for Ganmore, or anybody else, myself suppose in my pea-jacket and great watch-coat (if any other make a scruple to do it) while he stands in the way, gaping and staring like a notice, to stumble against him, and push him overboard! A rich thought!-is it not, Belford ? He is certainly plaguy officious in the ladies' correspondence; and, I am informed, plays double between mother and daughter, in fear of both,-dost not see him, Jack? I do: popping up and down, his wig and hat floating by him; and paddling, pawing, and dashing, like a frighted mongrel; I am afraid he never ventured to learn to swim.

But thou wilt not drown the poor fellow, wilt thou?

No, no!—that is not necessary to the project. I hate to do mischiefs supererogatory. The skiff shall be ready to save him, while the vessel keeps its course. He shall be set on shore with the loss of wig and hat only, and of half of his little wits, at the place where he embarked, or anywhere else.

Well, but shall we not be in danger of being hanged for three such enormous rapes ?

Yes, to be sure, when caught: but is there any likelihood of that? Besides, have we not been in danger before now, for worse facts? And what is there in being only in danger? If we actually were to appear in open day in England before matters are made up, there will be greater likelihood that these women will not prosecute, than that they will. For my own part, I should wish they may. Would not a brave fellow choose to appear in court to such an arraignment, confronting women who would do credit to his attempt? The country is more merciful in these cases than in any others; I should therefore like to put myself upon my country.

Let me indulge a few reflections upon what thou mayest think the worst that can happen. I will suppose that

thou art one of us, and that all five are actually brought to trial on this occasion; how bravely shall we enter a court, I at the head of you, dressed out each man, as if to his wedding-appearance! You are sure of all the women, old and young, of your side.-What brave fellows!-What fine gentlemen!-There goes a charming handsome man !— meaning me, to be sure!-Who could find in their hearts to hang such a gentleman as that? whispers one lady, sitting perhaps on the right hand of the Recorder (I suppose the scene to be in London); while another disbelieves that any woman could fairly swear against me. All will crowd after me; it will be each man's happiness (if ye shall chance to be bashful) to be neglected; I shall be found to be the greatest criminal; and my safety, for which the general voice will be engaged, will be yours.

But then comes the triumph of triumphs, that will make the accused look up, while the accusers are covered with confusion.

Make room, there!-Stand by!-Give back!-One receiving a rap, another an elbow, half a score a push apiece!

Enter the slow-moving, hooded-faced, down-looking plaintiffs :

And first the widow, with a sorrowful countenance, though half-veiled, pitying her daughter more than herself. The people, the women especially, who on this occasion will be five-sixths of the spectators, reproaching her,-You'd have the conscience, would you, to have five such brave gentlemen as these hanged for you know not what?

Next comes the poor maid, who perhaps had been ravished twenty times before; and had not appeared now, but for company's sake; mincing, simpering, weeping, by turns, not knowing whether she should be sorry or glad. every one dwells upon Miss!-See, see, the handsome gentleman bows to her!

But

To the very ground, to be sure, I shall bow, and kiss my hand.

See her confusion! see! she turns from him!—Ay! that's because it is in open court, cries an arch one!— While others admire her-Ay; that's a girl worth venturing one's neck for !

Then we shall be praised-even the judges and the whole crowded bench will acquit us in their hearts, and every single man wish he had been me !-The women all the time disclaiming prosecution, were the case to be their own. To be sure, Belford, the sufferers cannot put half so good a face upon the matter as we.

Well, but suppose after all we are convicted, what have we to do, but in time make over our estates, that the sheriff may not revel in our spoils ?—There is no fear of being hanged for such a crime as this while we have money or friends. And suppose even the worst, that

two or three were to man of us, to escape? five for ravishing three!

die, have we not a chance, each The devil's in them if they'll hang

I know I shall get off for one, were it but for family sake; and, being a handsome fellow, I shall have a dozen or two of young maidens, all dressed in white, go to court to beg my life.—And what a pretty show they will make, with their white hoods, white gowns, white petticoats, white scarves, white gloves, kneeling for me, with their white handkerchiefs at their eyes, in two pretty rows, as majesty walks through them, and nods my pardon for their sakes!—And, if once pardoned, all is over; for, Jack, in a crime of this nature there lies no appeal, as in murder.

So thou seest the worst that can happen, should we not make the grand tour upon this occasion, but stay and take our trials. But it is most likely that they will not prosecute at all. If not, no risk on our side will be run; only taking our pleasure abroad, at the

worst; leaving friends tired of us, in order, after a time, to return to the same friends endeared to us, as we to them, by absence.

I

This, Jack, is my scheme, at the first running. know it is capable of improvement-for example: I can land these ladies in France; whip over before they can get a passage back, or before Hickman can have recovered his fright; and so find means to entrap my beloved on board. And then all will be right; and I need not care if I were never to return to England.

Memorandum, to be considered of :-Whether, in order to complete my vengeance, I cannot contrive to kidnap away either James Harlowe or Solmes, or both? A man, Jack, would not go into exile for nothing.

And now, Belford, what dost think?

That thou art a cursed fellow, if—

If no ifs-but I shall be very sick to-morrow, I shall, 'faith.

Sick-Why sick?-What a devil shouldst thou be sick for?

For more good reasons than one, Jack.

I should be glad to hear but one.-Sick, quotha! Of all thy roguish inventions I should not have thought of this.

Perhaps thou thinkest my view to be, to draw the lady to my bedside: that's a trick of three or four thousand years old; and I should find it much more to my purpose, if I could get to hers. However, I'll condescend to make thee as wise as myself.

I am excessively disturbed about this smuggling scheme of Miss Howe. I have no doubt, that my fair one, were I to make an attempt, and miscarry, will fly from me, if she can. I once believed she loved me: but now I doubt whether she does or not: at least, that it is with such an ardour, as Miss Howe calls it, as will make her overlook a premeditated fault, should I be guilty of one.