mer occupants of the chateau rushed to my

mind.

To my question of "Who is there?" I was answered by the soft voice of Carlos. I instantly opened the door. He was pale

as death.

"What is the matter, my dear?" I said, drawing him into the room.

"Oh! Theresa!" he replied, "I am sure there are robbers in the garden."

Upon questioning him further, I found that, before he went to bed, he had omitted to close his window, as it was so sultry, and that after he had been in bed, he could not sleep, on account of the extreme heat. Lying, therefore, restless, he had got out of bed, to look, as he said, at the stars. Upon approaching the window, he thought he heard hoarse whispers underneath, and peeping very cautiously, he saw several men with muskets, apparently reconnoitring the windows of the chapel underneath his room. He instantly

came to me.

I crept softly to his bed-room, which was

only divided from mine by our mutual sitting-room, and looking cautiously out of the window, saw, exactly as he had described, seven or eight men armed with guns. I saw that there was no time to be lost, but dreaded frightening my lady. However, I determined to use great caution in informing Lord Henry.

Tapping gently, therefore, at their bed-room door, it was soon opened by the wakeful soldier. I told him, in a hurried whisper, all I had seen and feared, while Lady Henry called out to know what was the matter. He told her that Carlos had taken fright at some lads, who had got into the orchard to rob it, "so I will go and drive them away," he said, "Theresa meanwhile can remain with you."

Poor Carlos, who had followed me, I placed on one of the couches in the ante-room, with strict injunctions not to alarm his lady, whatever might happen. However, the tired boy soon fell fast asleep.

Lady Henry, thinking it was really only two or three boys who were taking the fruit, was not at first at all alarmed, but the report of

musketry startled her dreadfully, and it was in vain afterwards that I strove to calm her, by saying it was only the servants firing to frighten them away.

"Run, run, Theresa," she cried, " and bring back my dear husband; I shall die if I do not see him. I am sure there are brigands, or there would not be so much firing."

Another volley completely upset her, and she fainted. It was with the greatest difficulty I could bring her to herself, and then she prayed me so earnestly to find Lord Henry and bring him to her, that though extremely unwilling to leave or disobey her, I was going to wake Carlos to watch in his lady's room till my return, when, to my great relief, his lordship himself appeared, looking flushed and excited; but it was evident that fears for her he loved better than life were the cause of his agitation.

My darling Clara," he said, "I would not have stopped so long, but that I wished thoroughly to frighten those young vagabonds." "You cannot deceive me, Enrico, they

were something worse than mere boys. The chateau is attacked, and you will expose yourself again, and I shall see you die at my feet. For heaven's sake, do not leave me again."

Her agitation was so great, that he was obliged to comply, and sending me (with a significant look) to Griffith, I left the room. I found the latter with the French footman, in the room of Carlos, where they had been firing from the windows upon the brigands below, who were described as having made a most desperate resistance. The other servants had been placed by Lord Henry at different windows, and at the various entrances, in case any attempt should be made at forcing them, which seemed at one time (Griffith said) but too probable.

They had met, however, with a warmer reception than they had expected.

Several of the ruffians had fallen, and the servants thought they were now making off with their wounded. Griffith told me they had counted ten of these desperados, there

fore it was evident their intentions were serious. Had it not been for our poor little Carlos, they might have obtained an entrance, and most probably we should all have been murdered.

None of us, of course, went to bed again that night, and when morning dawned, my lady's bell made me fear she was worse. I hastened to her room, and found her extremely ill; and dreading a premature accouchement, I begged Lord Henry to send off immediately to the neighbouring town for the medical man. In two hours he arrived, and before night poor Lady Henry was brought to bed of a dead girl. Her distress at this event was quite heart-breaking, and nothing but the soothing fondness of her devoted husband could have reconciled her to the grievous disappointment; for she had looked forwards with the greatest delight to presenting him with a little daughter. This unexpected and distressing event drove in some measure the fright of the preceding night from my mind. Lord Henry, who had