652 Unreported Cases. [JUNK, 



villagers to keep more aloof from her than ever j for no one could divine 

 how, except it were by witchcraft, she obtained her means, it being allowed, 

 even by the most slanderous gossips, that her reputation as a maiden was 

 above impeachment. Gradually the old and heart-broken began to shrink 

 from her charitable hand, and the paupers now made a large space at one 

 end of the stone bench under the pulpit when she approached. Day by 

 day Rachael was becoming more desolate. 



At length the eldest son of old Sir Ralph, of Scroby Hall, while pro- 

 ceeding with his groom, at an early hour, to join a distant hunt, found 

 Rachael sitting the image of mute despair among the fern on a small 

 but lonely common, across which ran a foot path to the neighbouring 

 market town. Some pieces of broken wicker-work, and one of her shoes, 

 were lying near her. A small gold brooch, to which was attached a morsel 

 of a shirt frill, appeared in the palm of her usually pure, but now begrimed 

 hand ; which, as the young squire and his groom approached to raise her, 

 she suddenly clenched, and thrusting it into her bosom, sobbed hysterically, 

 " Do not take it from me you know not what it cost !" 



With a humanity of which she seemed sensible, the young squire, assisted 

 by his man, carried her by a back path to her cottage. The groom, with 

 feelings less delicate than those of his master, was urgent for information, 

 but he could elicit nothing from her except that she had been waylaid and 

 ill-used by somebody j but by whom, she either would not reveal, or, as 

 it appeared from her manner, she did not know. He then suggested a 

 minute inspection of the brooch j which, however, she held so sullenly in 

 her bosom, that his master at length told him, not to distress her further 

 on the subject. 



The patch of rose-trees in front of Rachael's cottage soon became a little 

 wilderness ; and the paupers occupied the stone bench beneath the pulpit 

 at their ease fearless of her coming j for Rachael's Sabbath visits to the 

 house of God had evidently terminated. Months passed on, and at length 

 a cow-boy, coming from a neighbouring revel, heard an infant's wail in 

 Rachael's cottage. Some days after a little boy was found exposed, beneath 

 the lofty porch of Scroby Hall, in a cradle of exquisite wicker-work, and 

 protected with motherly care from the inclemency of the season. The 

 child was however dead. The neatness of its baby blanketing, the beauty 

 of its willow coffin, and the cow-boy's story, instantly brought a strong 

 suspicion on Rachael. Reuben Orton, who was now constable, wished, 

 he said, to confront her with the little corpse : but she entreated to be 

 spared that pang, for it was needless. The child she would own at once 

 was hers. She had gazed on him all night, and frolicked with him all 

 day : work she could,not, and want, bitter want, had come on her. Though 

 few had longer, or perhaps brighter tresses, the Scotch pedlar, she said, 

 had refused to purchase them, because he had been told she was uncannie. 

 The child had driven her to despair by crying for that nourishment, which 

 she had lost the power to give it. A wicked thought stole into her mind, 

 and while frantic, she had accomplished it. " On my way back," she 

 continued, " I knelt on the stepping-stone, and drank from the brook. 

 Before I had risen from my knees, I grew calm enough to pray for my 

 child. My very heart seemed to open I felt 'a gush in my bosom and 

 flew back. The mile betwixt us seemed to be a thousand. The shadow 

 of his cradle was still on the steps I hurried on clutched him up to my 

 breast and for a moment felt the full joy of being a mother ! He fell 



