256 THE POACHERS. 



The stranger now returned, " To-morrow/' said he to me, "makes 

 me happy for ever. We shall take the carriage from here at day-dawn. 

 Miss Russell will go as bridesmaid, and I trust I can depend upon 

 you to attend us ; I have dispatched a messenger to apprize my father 

 and friends, and have no doubt of their carriages meeting us at the 

 church. The 'Squire rides about the distance of seven miles in the 

 morning to consult with another magistrate respecting us poachers ; 

 before he returns the ceremony will be over, and instead of the 

 poachers being committed to prison, they, along with the servants, 

 shall for once have a merry day in honour of my marriage." 



I shall pass over our beautiful ride through a beautiful country, 

 together with the solemn marriage ceremony. The bride blushed 

 like a bending seraph, when receiving the blessing; and Henry 

 Hickman's eyes (for I shall no longer call him the stranger) beamed 

 forth unutterable love. 



We returned about noon, accompanied by Henry's father and his 

 friends, in two carriages ; the old 'Squire had just dismounted as we 

 came bowling up the fine oak-shaded carriage-road ; guess his as- 

 tonishment as he stood to receive us, on seeing Sir Henry Hickman, 



"This is kind," said the old 'Squire, "never shall another " and 



he paused. Sir Henry, who wished to spare the kind-hearted old 

 'Squire from any apology, here introduced the happy couple. Henry 

 and Emma knelt hand in hand upon the greensward, her fine 

 sweeping ringlets were up-lifted by the gentle wind, as she threw 

 her bonnet upon the grass. The old 'Squire placed his hands upon 

 their heads, and said, while tears of joy trickled down his manly 

 cheeks, " God bless you, my children." 



The poachers and 'servants, who had rushed out on hearing the 

 carriages approach, gave three loud cheers. Henry here explained 

 the whole frolic, and Woodcock shrewdly said, " few poachers had 

 ever catched such game as that." Another merry day and night past 

 away, and all around us was sunshine happiness. 



Years have rolled over, and with them have glided many hours of 

 care. When I look through the open vistas of the past, the happy 

 hours spent among the poachers rise like the recollections of Arcadian 

 dreams. Mike has long since commenced business for himself, by 

 taidng out a license to sell game ; it is rumoured that, although he 

 keeps the best stock in the town, no one knows where they come from. 

 Woodcock is now gamekeeper to young Sir Henry Hickman, and no 

 one has yet been taken up for poaching since he was appointed to 

 that office, although several suspicious fellows have been seen lurking 

 about the woods at twilight, and amongst them two who greatly re- 

 sembled Mike and Smith. The old 'Squire's keeper is married to 

 Mary, and is no longer jealous of the young stranger; yet, when 

 they sometimes meet, Woodcock asks him " if he ever recollects 

 looking as if he'd found a sixpence and lost a shilling, when he sat 

 drumming upon the oak-table, and whistling 'Be gone dull care?" 

 " Hey, hey," says he, " I have not forgotten you poachers/' 



T. M. 



