70 Highways and Bijways. QJuly, 



by some tone in his voice, some strange — indefinite peculiarity in his 

 manner, " Who, in God's name," said I, " is your father }" 



The boy hesitated a moment, then suddenly, with manifest confusion, 

 " I know not ; he left us when I was an infant ; grandfather often 

 speaks of him, but always angrily." 



" And your mother ?" 



" She died just after I was born." 



" Her name }" 



" Rosa McNeill." 



" Her residence .''" 



" The woods at the back of Sidney Town." 



" Gracious God \" I exclaimed, shuddering all over with emotion, 

 " it is indeed my child, my own deserted child, who now stands here to 

 give evidence against his father, as that father was his mother's murderer." 



On following up this fearful cross-examination, the following additional 

 facts came out. The witness was the grandson of a Scotchman, who, hav- 

 ing in the course of years accumulated property as an agriculturist in New 

 Holland, had resolved to return home and enjoy it in his native Dumfries- 

 shire. On his arrival in London, where he had business of importance 

 to transact, he took that opportunity of placing his grandson with some 

 respectable English farmer, for which purpose he advertised in all 

 the papers ; and it was in answer to one of these that Evans had per- 

 sonally applied to him, stating his Avant of such a lad, and proposing 

 terms, which being accepted by the old Scotchman, the boy was trans- 

 ferred to Twickenham, where he had since continued to reside, up to the 

 moment of his master's murder. On hearing this extraordinary state- 

 ment, an intense feeling of horror pervaded the whole court, during 

 which nothing could be heard but my own convulsive so1)bings, as I 

 vainly stretched forth my arms to clasp my injured child. After a short 

 pause, the trial proceeded, and the facts Ijeing irrefragalily proved 

 against me, the jury, without a moment's hesitation, returned a verdict of 

 guilty, and the judge condenmed me to death. I was then removed 

 from the bar, and consigned to the solitude of the condemned cell, never 

 thence to depart, until the hour appointed for my execution. 



In this desolate — this gloomy — this Ufe-destroying dungeon, with no 

 companions but my thoughts, no hope but what Heaven in its mercy 

 may accord me, I await the final sentence of the law. The revolting 

 levity with Avhich, in the pride of my spii'it, I some months since com- 

 menced these mem.oirs, is gone; the bolt has reached my heart — the fire- 

 brand has sti'uck to my brain. How awful is this hour ! Night is above 

 —around — beneath me ; night on heaven — night on earth — but what is 

 that to the night within my soul ? Hark, is that the church clock .'' 

 Fool ! 'tis the chink of the hammer on thy scaffold. O God ! is there 

 then no hope ? Must I indeed die, be prisoned in some dark, rotting 

 coffin, and feel the de.ith-worm slowly creeping — cree])ing— creeping — ■ 

 inch by inch, across my heart ? Shall the spider that now Aveaves his 

 web above ray head, have a longer existence than I ? Shall Rosa — poor 

 deserted Rosa — be revenged only by her seducer's death.'' My child 

 know peace only by forgetting his father ? Distracting thought ! — I must 

 compose myself awhile by prayer. 



[This article, which has been some time ready, was intended for our 

 last April nimiber ; but, in consequence of an unusual press of matter, 

 we were compelled to leave it over to the present month.] 



