The magistrate

these proceedings were to him a matter of no concern. once more took counsel with his clerk, a subordinate official to whom he was more indebted for legal assistance than he cared to have believed, and this shorter conference over, he desired one of the constables to search the prisoner's pockets, and produce what was in them. But there were no contents; the accused looked for a moment surprised at the failure of effects, but merely muttering that some one must have taken the few shillings he had during the night, he expressed no further interest in the matter. The magistrate, with his hand shading his eyes, appeared to reflect deeply; his ideas ran thus: neither character nor money-bad; quarrel between them-worse; but he would not be rash; there was still another inquiry to be made before he decided.

"Shoemaker, those shoes!" he said aloud, raising his index finger towards the cobbler, while he directed one of the constables to bring the articles to him.

"The shoes, my lord?" exclaimed their possessor, hesitating to give them up. "You will pay me for them, my lord, I am but a poor man, and lost a pair yesterday already-besides-"

What else he was about to add remained within his breast, for the constable, unceremoniously wrenching the shoes from him, said

"Dare you deny his lordship?" and set them down on the official table, far beyond his reach.

The magistrate now nodded to his clerk, who, taking up the shoes, turned his back for an instant to the audience, and then, resuming his former position, placed the important articles again in front of his superior, returning the same species of pantomime that had been vouchsafed to himself a minute before. The magistrate hereupon took a long breath, and then, in a solemn voice, desired the shoes to be tried on the feet of the prisoner.

"They are not mine," said the latter, "I do not want them ;" as both the constables endeavoured to carry out the orders given, one of them replying gruffly,

"But you must let me try them on," and sure enough there was a shoe thrust upon the foot of William Rigg, which it apparently fitted.

"You see, my lord," exclaimed the successful constable, holding up the leg and foot of the prisoner thus clad; "shall I try the other?"

"Ahem! yes, you may," slowly answered his lordship; and the other foot was invested in the same manner, without the prisoner giving any other sign of resistance than a vague stare, as if he wondered what all the proceedings were about. The important shoes were now directed to be removed from the feet of the accused, and to be taken in custody for further investigation, while the cobbler somehow felt that the said shoes, which had so long disgraced his board, would never trouble it

more, though he began to fear that his troubles about them were only at their commencement.

"Shoemaker," again said the magistrate, "attend!"

And with grievous misgiving the cobbler prepared to give the attention demanded, by smoothing down his much wrinkled leather apron, and firmly closing his lips; ready to hear, but seemingly likely to be slow to speak.

"How did these shoes come into your possession?" was the first inquiry from the bench.

"How, my lord ?" was the interrogation rather than the response of him who was thus addressed, as he looked all round the court, as if seeking for the answer there.

"Yes, how, the question is a simple one. Answer."

"Oh! they were just sold to me, my lord-sold in the ordinary course of business."

And then the mouth from which these words had proceeded, was set again, as if more decided than ever that as little should escape from it as possible.

"Sold, yes; but when and by whom were they sold?"

Another optical voyage of discovery round the court, and a shuffling of feet, as if a change of position was highly desirable; and then the words came reluctantly forth.

"When? I cannot exactly mind, I have so many of these small transactions;" followed by complete silence as to the seller.

"Witness," here exclaimed the magistrate, "you must not put off the time of the court, and you must give straightforward evidence; again I desire you to tell me, and without prevarication, who sold you those shoes?"

Here some one close to the cobbler whispered in his ear—

"His lordship's getting angry, you had better say what he bids you and be done with it."

"Silence in the court !" cried an official, overhearing this "sotto voce" remark, and the cobbler blurted out, sulkily,

"A man sold them to me, just a man."

"Did you know that man?"

The answer was ready this time.

"Not I;" while an expression of satisfaction at being able thus to declare, sat upon his old, weather-beaten, rugged face.

"Was it the prisoner?" was the next inquiry.

"No!" as quickly answered the witness as before.

"Are you certain it was not? Remember you are upon oath." "As certain as I stand here!" reiterated the other, with emphasis. "Look again, was it not this sailor, dressed in other clothes ?" For a moment the old man was puzzled by the supposition, but after

having examined the accused from head to foot, he stood to his first. assertion; and while the cobbler was now told that he might leave the court if he liked, but keep himself in readiness to answer at a superior tribunal when sent for, the magistrate resumed the examination of the prisoner as to his intentions the previous day in regard to the shoes.

We shall not, however, pursue the examination further; suffice it to say, that it was not until the termination of the inquiry, that William Rigg appeared to realise the fact that he was suspected of being either a principal or accessory in the murder of the widow Kirkpatrick, and was about to be lodged in prison on that suspicion. When at length the truth was borne in upon his mind, his interest did not seem to be so much centred upon himself and the painful circumstances in which he was placed, as directed towards the discovery of the real murderer, for he still appeared to be convinced that in the end he could never be mistaken for such.

As he was taken out of court, he bowed to the magistrate; and, thanking him for his offer of a legal adviser to confer with upon the means to be adopted, as he believed, for clearing him of the charge, he added, with great simplicity, that he hoped his lordship would do all he could to trace out the real criminal.

Haggard, weary, fasting, grieved to the heart at the loss of her he was to see no more in this world-the one who had so long fed and clad him, and, as he was aware, who had liked him well throughout, though she had an ungracious way of showing it-Rigg lay down on the floor of his solitary cell, untenanted by any other human being, the privilege of those suspected of crimes above the common; and to himself appeared more miserable than he had ever been in his short career of life. He wished he had been lost along with the ill-fated brig and her crew, or had journeyed to some other quarter of the world and passed the rest of his days there, unacquainted with the knowledge that Tibby had lost her life by violence, and, as he now urged against himself, perhaps because he was not there to protect her. But, with a revulsion of feeling, he next seemed to desire life, that he might bring the murderer to justice, and thus do all that, alas! he now could, to show his gratitude and affection towards her who had been as a mother to him. The day following, the promised legal adviser made his appearance in the cell, and what passed between him and his client. will now be related.

(To be continued.)

THE PEARL GOBLET;

OR,

THE WATERS OF THE MIRACULOUS FOUNTAIN.

A FAIRY TALE.

BY MISS EDITH HERAUD.

CHAPTER VI.

THE ARTIFICE.

ESTELLE was a subtle diplomatist; she was mistress of her countenance as well as of her speech. Upon the present occasion her face was a dead blank; she apparently did not understand the remark of her companion. In this, his first venture in the contest between them, St. Valerie was foiled.

"The air that blows from the conservatory," said Alaric, after a pause, re-commencing the conversation, and taking this opportunity of introducing the subject nearest to his thoughts, "is laden with perfume. Surrounded as is the beautiful Estelle with everything that can engage and fascinate the intellectual as well as the sensual faculties of man, I no longer marvel at the fatal infatuation of the self-devoted Herbert St. Valerie."

"Ah!" said Estelle, suddenly addressing Alaric, her face expressive of gloom and melancholy, and her voice tremulous with emotion, "that is a subject upon which I have long desired to converse with you. Much I fear, too, my conduct in that affair-natural and irreprehensible as it was-motives have been attributed, which, in proportion as they are unjust and unmerited, have filled me with a corresponding degree of mortification and depression. God knows what suffering his death has entailed on me! God alone can know ; for he alone may dive into the recesses of the heart, and read in mine the story of the passionate idolatry which, alas! received in the bosom of St. Valerie so poor and inadequate a return!"

Alaric started.

"You!" he exclaimed, looking incredulous and bewildered, "you loved my brother, Herbert St. Valerie, and Herbert St. Valerie, received that boon with an insufficiency of delight and rapture?"

"It is true," said Estelle; "I loved him passionately. He found me a goodly bark of health and happiness, he left me a hopeless wreck of unrequited passion. God forgive him! and measure not his judgment after his offence!"

"This is harder of solution than the enigma of all that has gone

before," said Alaric, starting from his chair, and pacing up and down the chamber.

"Truth is subtler to perceive than error," said Estelle, laying her beautiful head despondingly upon the palms of her jewelled fingers. Alaric stopped in front of the specious fair one. Vouchsafe me an explanation."

deceive the world-his father, and—his brother."

There was a pause.
"I am bewildered.
"It was a mask to
"A mask! what?"
"His love for me."
"His love for you?"
"It was feigned.”
"Feigned!"

"Yes! He feared the opprobrium of the world, the ire of Lord St. Valerie, and the just indignation of his brother. He valued not the affections of Estelle, but those of-"

"Ah! whom?"

"Winnifred the Gentle."

Alaric made no answer. He was petrified.

"It is a strange revelation," proceeded Estelle; "and may appear at first almost incredible; but that it is true, the cross I must bear with me to the body's doom, is before heaven an eternal voucher!"

"They deepen," murmured Alaric, fixing his eyes vacantly upon the face of his companion; "the shadows gather and deepen in the prospect --God, enlighten my understanding to penetrate the darkness!"

"Proceed," said Alaric, suddenly rousing himself from his state of stupor, "proceed with this strange tale to its mysterious termination." "To avoid suspicion," said Estelle, "and shut from his kindred a knowledge of the truth, he feigned a passionate adoration where his fancy had never for a moment lingered. It was a subtle artifice, and imposed upon all, alas! only too successfully. But the gentle Winnifred found no pleasure in the society of Herbert St. Valerie; her looks gave him no encouragement to press onward with his suit; and, in a fit of desperation, one day he sought my presence, and confessed the truth. It was the death-knell of my happiness; for I had believed in his sincerity, and consigned my heart irrevocably to his keeping. He extracted from me a promise never to reveal to anyone, least of all to Winnifred the Gentle, the secret of his bosom. He was ashamed of the part he had been treacherously enacting. And so he died-stricken with disappointment and humiliation, carefully preserving the deception, even on his death-bed, and substituting, to the last, the name of Estelle for that of the beloved Winnifred."

""Tis strange!" muttered Alaric, for the first time in his life giving way to a philosophical train of thought, "the unstability of the framework upon which we rest all human knowledge. So does the surface