legal age; but, perhaps, if you empowered me to treat with the other party-if you would kindly enter a little more into detail."

Zaidee was becoming very much agitated-it seemed like a voluntary self-betrayal for a very questionable good.

CHAPTER XXVIII. ALARMS.

MR. CUMBERLAND's lecture was a very successful lecture; it had the merit-not a particularly distinguished feature of popular platform instruction-of sticking very closely to its "But I cannot enter into detail, and no one text, and being perfectly in earnest. Mr. Cumcan treat with him," she said with simple berland did not address himself to a hypothetical earnestness, her voice trembling, and her eyes body of illuminators who might be present; he filling with tears. "Pray, if you will be so addressed himself boldly to the wealthy class, very good as to draw this out for me- say that I of which he himself was a member-comfortgive everything that was left to me by my grand-able elderly gentlemen, whose balance at their father's will, absolutely, to my cousin Philip-bankers' was extremely satifactory, and who that I know my grandfather intended to destroy rode violently each some particular hobby. On that will. No, stay, that will not do. It must these respectable brethren Mr. Cumberland venot be a gift to Philip, who is the head of the hemently urged the sacred duty of illuminathouse. I give it all to my aunt-will you please ing their houses; he exhibited to them his own to say, sir?-everything absolutely to her, to I and C, and pathetically related the interest of be disposed of as she pleases. I give up all the urchins who clapped their hands at the emproperty in it, and protest that I never was blazoned letters. "We talk of popular instrucentitled to have any. Pray will you be so good tion, the education of the poor," said Mr. Cumas to say all this for me?" berland; 66 you have my permission to make a grand bonfire of spelling-books, if you will but adopt this decoration, of itself so beautiful, for the front of your houses. What contribution do you make, my good sir, to the moral culture of that little vagabond who dances before your door? what the better is it for him that you know your letters? But let him learn to know that, in these three mystic and sacred colors emblazoned over your door, you are communicating to him two or three of the radical characters of the alphabet, the foundation of all learning, and your relation is immediately changed. You no longer throw a penny to the breechless imp, as you throw a bone to his companion cur; you make a beautiful picture for his enjoyment, you cheer his life, you educate his taste, you improve his mind; all the national schools in the world will not work such a revolution as you have it in your power to work by this beautiful expedient

The lawyer attempted to take a note of these instructions, but shook his head. "I am afraid I must trouble you to be a little more particular," he said, "to mention the nature of the property, the names-I think that would do. I think I understand your wishes, with these details."

"It is my grandfather's estate," said Zaidee, growing more and more agitated; "and the names could not I put in the names, if you will write all the rest?"

But Mr. Furnival smiled, and, though with the most deferential politeness, demurred to the possibility of this. His beautiful client moved the lawyer into usual curiosity and interest her singular errand and her visible distress.

"Are you trusted with a great many secrets?" said Zaidee, anxiously. "This is the secret of all my life; if they find me, or have any trace where to find me, they will not accept this. If I tell you my name — our name—will you keep my secret? You are a stranger; you do not know them; if I trust you, will you not betray me?"

"A lawyer is a secret-keeper by profession," said Mr. Furnival, somewhat shaken out of his composure by this appeal. “It will become my duty to keep your secret when you trust me with it. I think you need fear no betrayal from me." Then she told him her name, and the name of Mrs. Vivian of the Grange. Mr. Furnival was very anxious to be permitted to bring the paper to Miss Vivian when he had executed it, and did not understand the hasty terror with which she volunteered to come again. In two days she was to come again, Mr. Furnival pledging himself to have the momentous deed ready for her signature; and Zaidee hastened out to join Mr. Steele at the door, leaving the dazzled lawyer in the private room, which had never looked so dingy, and to the labors which were perpetually interrupted by a pause of wonder and admiration. Mr. Furnival would almost have sacrificed the Grange, himself, if he had had it, for a better introduction and a less embarrassing acquaintance with that beautiful face.

the encouragement of arts and morals- the improvement of the world!"

A burst of emphathic applause, led by Mr. Steele, who clapped his hands with the glee of a schoolboy, cheered on the lecturer; the members of the association under whose auspices he delivered his address bit their lips and smiled; the elderly gentlemen, each of whom clung tightly to his own saddle, looked upon the prancing of this new steed with small admiration, and believed Cumberland was crazy at last. But with the valor of a champion, and the ardor due to so great a principle, Mr. Cumberland went on.

The next two days were once more a pause in Zaidee's troubled existence. Percy was not here to quicken Mary's suspicions by talk of Zaidee; and though Mary watched with unwavering observation, nothing occurred to add to her chain of evidence. Mary made great demands upon Zaidee's time; when she could help it, she never left her alone, but pressed her into a continual round of engagements, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that Zaidee was able to escape from her watchful companion, to keep her engagement with the lawyer. With great exertion, however, she was able to do it, and to

send off the deed in another packet- a second | story where she was. "A deed of gift—a legal startling communication to Aunt Vivian. Zaidee instrument and from London this time," said had done her utmost when she had done this; Percy, with great excitement, though in an unshe returned home, trembling with suppressed der-tone. "We cannot cope with this invisible excitement, exhausted and pale as with great agent; while we are searching for her in one labor; nor did she return to find any comfort place, she makes her appearance suddenly in or relaxation in the temporary dwelling-place another. It is like an actual dealing with some of her adopted father. spiritual influence. My mother says, Search London. Heaven knows, I am as anxious as she is; but how to search London, Mary! I am at my wit's end; advise me what I must do." "I will advise you by-and-by," said Mary, quietly, "but tell me now what is this new thing another letter?-is that what you mean?" "Not a letter-a deed executed by a lawyer, conferring the Grange upon my mother by a formal gift. My mother, of course, can refuse to accept it; but, to tell the truth, these lands occupy a very small share of our thoughts. My mother can think of nothing but Zaidee. I have sent for Sophy to the Grange to keep her company: left to herself with nothing but these strange communications, the author of which it is impossible to trace, I almost fear for my moth

Mary received her with minute inquiries as to where she had been, and looks of unequivocal suspicion. Poor Zaidee durst not retreat to her own room to rest, and clude this ingenious torture. She was compelled to be still, and bear the brunt of all, to compose her beating heart as well as she was able, and to fall into the every-day quietness of Mrs. Burtonshaw's talk, and Mary Cumberland's occupation. She did it with the painful self-constraint which more and more felt like guilt to her. She perceived herself shrinking like a criminal from Mary's notice; and Zaidee wondered, with great pang, if this was not dissimulation, deceit, practical falsehood, and felt all her supports and all her strength yielding under her; was she doing evil that good might come?

And she began to have hours of that indefinite illness and sadness which people compassionately call headache, and to feel, indeed, her unshed tears a burning weight over her eyebrows. When Percy returned, she saw him talking apart with Mary, and with terror perceived that Mary no longer wished to confide to her what Percy said. Zaidee asked herself, night and day, should she fly away again?-but she had no longer the strength of resolution which would fit her for this, nor had she the happy immunity from evil which belonged to a child. She was a woman grown-a beautiful woman; her heart sickened at the prospect of the desert world which lay before her, and she clung with a strange regard to her familiar shelter. Time enough for flight when her fears were verified when the last evil, the distinct discovery, came. She stayed with her kind friends, day by day, like one over whom the extreme punishment of the law was hanging: before to-morrow she might be flying from them, a hopeless fugitive; before to-morrow she might have said farewell to these affectionate faces, and be dead forever to her second home.

And when Percy came, Zaidee could not be still in her favorite corner, or withdraw her attention from him. With her beating heart and her strained ear, she came as close beside these betrothed companions as it was possible to come, and listened with a sickening anxiety. She knew the glance of Percy's excitement when he entered, a few days after she had sent away her deed, as well as if he had proclaimed it aloud, and in a moment the most complete self-control calmed Zaidee's mind and person, and she waited with breathless eagernesss to hear what he would say.

"Let me speak to you, Mary," said Percy; "we have another event in this marvellous his tory. Come, let me tell you here."

But Mary, who had her own reasons for permitting Zaidee to listen, sat still, and heard his

er.

She is neither nervous nor fanciful, or she must have been ill before now."

"And Sophy is your youngest sister," said Mary Cumberland. Zaidee, driven to another expedient, was working now at her needle, and had made no sign, ever so secret, of interest. This perfect composure gave ground for Mary's suspicion as potent as agitation could have done. "The story is a strange story; she is near enough to hear; she could not have listened so quietly had it been new to her," said Mary; and not without an object was her present question, to draw a little more of the family history from Percy, and put Zaidee off her guard.

Sophy is my youngest sister, and though I believe the most practical of us all, she has made what people call a very foolish marriage; and neither Reginald nor she are likely to be injured by three months in the Grange. But do not think of Sophy-think of our mysterious correspondent—and help me if you can."

Mary shook her head, and could suggest nothing. But she had seen Zaidee's work pause in interest for Sophy - that was worth an exertion; and she set herself anew to build up her chain of evidence. Mary had a certain pride of intellect about her, though her understanding was by no means of a brilliant character. She would not ask Percy's assistance, as he asked hers; she was resolute to discover this mystery unaided. Then she recollected Zaidee's absence, which she had not accounted for-she became very eager in her investigations, and very full of hope.

But Zaidee heard no more of this conversation till Percy was on the point of departure. Then one thing rung upon her ear, "Philip is on his way; he was to start with the next mail, and a week or two more will bring him home."

"A week or two more." The room swam in Zaidee's eyes—she did not see this time the sidelong look with which Mary watched the sudden paleness and blindness which came upon her. Restraint had gone as far as restraint could go; she rose up, and went away from the

her face so full of thought, her unconscious and unremembered beauty, you would have thought her one of those domestic angels, whose peace and gladness every heart of her kindred would defend to the death. Lovingly, and with a touch of pathos, this softened reflection gave back the beautiful wave of dark brown hair, the brow like a young queen's, the graceful head bent over its quiet labor; and you could not have believed with what a precarious and uncertain grasp this beautiful girl held every kindness that blessed her, and how doubtful was her possession of home and shelter, how uncertain and how clouded her approaching fate.

room swiftly and suddenly, stumbling over some made immortal; and with her woman's work, unseen pieces of furniture in her way. Poor Zaidee, she had but thrown herself upon her bed, and pressed her burning temples with her hands, when Mary opened the door and asked, "May I come in?" With the quietness of despair, Zaidee raised herself up once more. "You look very pale; your eyes are red-what is the matter with you, Lizzy?" asked her visitor, struck with compassion, as she saw her face. "Only my head aches," said Zaidee. Her head did ache and throb and burn with great pain - her mind was almost yielding to this persecution. She raised herself with a momentary sullenness of resistance, and turned round upon her pursuer with her dark eyes dilated, and an agony of determination in them. If Mary had any purpose in thus following her, she wanted resolution to carry it out. "Lie down and rest," said Mary, laying back Zaidee's head against her will, upon the pillow, and wrapping a shawl round her; and Mary stooped to kiss her with a tear in her eye, and said, like Percy, "Poor child!"

"He will not come to day," said Mary, in answer to her mother's question, "When are we to expect Mr. Vivian?" "Mrs. Vivian is very ill, mamma; he is called to the Grange."

Mary spoke in an under-tone, but Zaidee's quick ear caught the words. She went on with her sewing without a pause. She gave no evidence of anxiety; but the blood rushed to her heart, and her face paled to a deadly color. "Very ill-called home to the Grange;" she repeated the words in her mind vacantly, aware that they had stunned her, but knowing nothing more. Then gradually she began to think of Aunt Vivian !- Aunt Vivian! Aunt Vivian! She repeated this name, too, again and again, while tears crept to her eyes. Why was Aunt Vivian very ill? had all this fatigue and excitement done it? had she done it?-she, the unfortunate Zaidee? When they all dispersed and went about their different occupations, Zaidee sat still like a statue, working mechanically, in a stupor of inquiry and anxiety, and blank woefulness. She had risen this morning with a heavy presentiment; was this how it was to be fulfilled? When Mary left the room, she called Zaidee to

It was a very different thing, saying, "I will never see Aunt Vivian again," and contemplating the possibility of God Himself stepping into make this certain. Zaidee was lost in a realization of the infinite greatness of this calamity; her thoughts leaped to the extremest limit of it with the terror of love. She would die; she was all the mother whom Zaidee's ophanhood had ever known, and she should never see her again.

THE next morning restored to a calmer and less constrained composure the mind of Zaidee; she had been thinking over her own position, and had come to the conclusion that she could not remain much longer here without Mary acquiring complete possession of her secret. But along with this conviction came all the strength of affection which Zaidee cherished for her adopted sister, and these most kind and lov-accompany her, but Zaidee did not hear the call. ing friends. She was not so ready to throw away for a second time all the comforts of existence. "I will stay while I can," said Zaidee to herself mournfully; "I will not hasten my fate;' and she went down to the family breakfast-table with sad self-possession, and, making up her mind that she could be only a very little time with them, exhausted herself in grateful cares and attentions to Mrs. Cumberland, who, not much used to real devotion, was touched for a moment out of her extravagance into reality; and to Mrs. Burtonshaw, whose mind, always full of reference to Sylvo, became more and more convinced of his good fortune. By this time they had once more returned home, and the great mirror reflected in the midst of its gay panorama of moving figures and bright looks one beautiful face full of wistful thought and sorrowfulness, one perfect form seated quietly within its range, working at bits of rare embroidery, an art in which Zaidee's powers of execution now were almost equal to her inventive fancy. These were all intended for little presents, gifts of remembrance to the friends from whom this loving exile must shortly go away. As she sat there at her thoughtful occupation, Zaidee was as fair a type of womanhood as ever painter

After a while she put down her work and went to her own room and tried to pray-but her prayers were broken with bursts of tears and sobbing, and restrained cries-"Aunt Vivian! Aunt Vivian!" Zaidee stretched out her hand as if to stay her departing-cried aloud with a passionate supplication. This dreadful imperious Death had never yet crossed her way-her heart shrank before him, and made a wild appeal against his power. Religion itself, with all its mighty hopes and consolations, did not still the first outcry of startled nature. It was very hard for her now to put a veil upon her heart, and descend once more to the family circle, which was unshadowed by her dreadful anxiety. She remained in her own apartment almost all the day, shut up by herself, and was glad to say that her head ached when she was inquired for.

VISITING THE PRISONERS.

THE State Penitentiary is located here, and is an imposing structure, containing at this time about four hundred and fifty convicts. There is also a Baptist College, which has been in existence some years; but in regard to its present condition, number of students, course of study, and future prospects, I am not informed. The Episcopal Church in Alton is under the pastoral charge of the Rev. Dr. McMasters, who has lately published a very convenient and useful Biographical Index to Hume's History of England. Dr. McMasters is universally respected in the community in which he lives, and has the confidence, not only of Episcopalians, but of the other denominations of Christians in the place, as evidence of which he is now acting, under a temporary appointment, as President of the Baptist College.

the hall in which the rite was performed; the "The strong walls and barred windows of kneeling prisoners, nearly all of whom were bathed in tears; the deep and sympathetic emotion visible in the countenances of the members of the Convention and other spectators; the solemn and earnest language of the Bishop, and the deep tones of his voice, as he briefly alluded to the past lives, the present condition, and the future destiny of the persons to whom he was speaking, altogether formed a scene such as probably never before has been witnessed in the United States or perhaps any other country, and which we think cannot fail to make a most salutary impression, not only upon those most interested in it, but also upon every beholder."

I watched narrowly the countenances of the candidates, and during the whole transaction did not discover in a single one the slightest departure from propriety or indication of insincerity. A considerable number of the prisoners, during the performance of In the afternoon of Oct. 18th the Conven- the services, stood outside near the open tion adjourned at an early hour, for the pur- windows, listening with the deepest attention pose of proceeding in a body, agreeably to the and solemnity to what was said, and observpolite invitation of the warden, to the Peni- ing what was transpiring within; some of tentiary, in order to be present at the admin- whom, it may be hoped, will never lose the istration of the solemn rite of confirmation impressions which evidently were made upon to a large number of convicts, who had for their minds by the scenes which they beheld. some months past manifested deep contrition It is worthy of remark, that the deep religious for their sins. And here I had the happi- feeling which has led so large a number of ness to witness one of the most impressive and these unfortunate convicts to embrace and affecting scenes which I ever beheld in con- profess the Gospel, is not the result, in the nection with the services of religion. The smallest degree, of special efforts on the part convicts, to the number of seventy, were ar- of the worthy chaplain to produce emotion, ranged along one side of the dining hall, and awaken the sensibilities of the prisoners. and the members of Convention on the oppo- He has simply preached to them from Sunsite side; the Bishop, dressed in his Episcopal day to Sunday the same discourses which he robes, and several of the clergy, being sta- delivered in his parish church, and which tioned in the midst. In the first place, twen- were chiefly prepared with reference to his ty-three, arranged along the passage and prosown people. But while only a few of them trated on their knees, received the sacred appear to have been savingly benefited by his ordinance of baptism, administered to them faithful ministrations, the walls of the prison by the Rev. Dr. McMasters, the chaplain of have been witnesses to the tears and confesthe prison, under whose ministrations they sions and resolves and vows of more than had been brought to a sense of their guilt, seventy convicts. I say more than seventy; and to the determination by God's grace to for, after the final adjournment of the Conlive a new and Christian life. The adminis-vention, the Bishop, accompanied by two or tration of baptism was followed by a solemn three clergymen, proceeded again to the penexhortation from the chaplain, and another itentiary and administered the solemn rite of from the Rev. Dr. Arnett, of Milwaukie. confirmation to four female prisoners, who The candidates for confirmation, seventy in had previously manifested unfeigned contrinumber, were then desired to kneel in the tion for their past misdeeds, and an earnest passage and around the benches upon which desire to lead a new and better life. How they sit at their meals when the Bishop many of all these are really sincere, and how proceeded to lay his hands, with the custom- many will escape further contamination, ary invocation, upon each of them success- and persevere to the end, is known only to ively. After the close of this affecting cere- the Allwise Disposer of events; but that mony, the Bishop addressed them for fifteen many of them are sincere, and will persevere or twenty minutes, in a powerful exhorta- by the helping grace of God, there can be no tion. In describing this scene the reporter reason to doubt.

of the Alton Daily Courier thus remarks :