3^ L'lONliL LACKLAND. 



fury, and at once forgetting all feelings of safety, I sprung forwards 

 to the aid of Stratton 3 ere I could lift my hand, a blow on my 

 breast and forehead laid me prostrate by the struggling form of 

 the murdered man. 



I must have lain insensible for a long period, for as I gradually 

 recovered my consciousness, 1 became conscious of a change of 

 place J the dark sides of the cliffs no longer frowned over me, I lay 

 immoveable in what seemed to be a cart, which was proceeding 

 slowly along 3 while the voices of several persons surrounding me 

 only increased my perplexity. Either I was bound by cords, or my 

 weakness from loss of blood kept me motionless. The words of 

 murder — trial — death — frequently struck upon niy ear in connec- 

 tion with that of Stratton and myself 3 I was perfectly at a loss to 

 account for the change 3 I attempted to speak, but could only 

 murmur in alow, indistinct tone. After some time, exhausted and 

 stiff with the position in which I had laid, I perceived we were 

 passing through a town, and soon stopped before a low, heavy- 

 looking building 3 the attendants who accompanied me rung 

 furiously at the bell for some minutes, when a tall, surly-looking 

 man unlocked the door and demanded their business. " What, 

 what," said he, " more of these sea-thieves, these salt-water sharks, 



these " " Here, look to your prisoner, goaler," said a stern 



Voice 5 at the same time the men in the cart began to unloosen my 

 cords. " Prisoner," said I, " who is a prisoner ? not 1, it was not I 

 that did it 3 what mean you ?" shaking off the rude gripe of one 

 of the men. " Come, come young man, you'll hang for it, an all's 

 right, a pretty one you, to kill men in the dark 3 come" said the 

 fellow, dragging me along until I found myself in the yard of the 

 gaol. I appealed to them — I told the tale. " A pretty tale that," 

 said one with a sneer. I was maddened 3 in my rage I stamped— 

 1 raved — 'twas useless ; the evidence was thought more than pre- 

 sumptive — I was found there, by the murdered man's side, my hand 

 had grasped his dress — no other person could be suspected 3 and 

 the circumstance of our quarrel on the moor, was an additional 

 proof. The horrid lock was turned upon me in my dark, stifling 

 cell 5 it was too much, I fainted. Slowly I recovered myself — and 

 how shall I describe my anguish. But I must draw a veil over the 

 months I languished neglected and friendless in my cell — how I was 

 tried and acquitted. — -What then to me was the bright sun and the 

 surfed ocean — my spirits were broken. Stratton lies beneath the 

 marble stone — the worm is his bridal guest — the shroud is the 

 eider down of his nuptial bed — peace b3 to him. Ellen — my love 

 — my everlasting love — she, too, slept under the green mound, 

 beneath the dark mourning boughs of the melancholy yew tree ; — 

 the maids of the village wept for thee, and drest thy temple 

 of peace with the flowers of hope, and they died not, for the dew 

 fell upon them nightly 3 and as 1 sat there, their odour came to me 

 like the voice of the departed — I wept 3 once only knew I the joy 

 of tears— farewell, my beloved — thou art for ever tabernacled in 

 my soul. Soon I bid adieu to the scenes of my boyhood — the 



