delay, did he know whether to adopt or reject her advice. At length, however, he resolved to trust in her. Her beauty and her tears, more than her story, led him to this conclusion.
"I will take her advice," he said, " for surely she is too young to engage in a plot to waylay, and perhaps murder one who has done her no wrong. Besides, if she deceives me, I can at least take care of two gipsy knaves, and if more assault me, and harm comes of it, there will be those left who will avenge my death," and soliloquizing thus to himself, he jerked the rein of his horse and pushed on his way. The twilight was now deepening fast, and the young man could just pick his way along the narrow lane. When he reached the cross-road, he turned his bridle, and was soon on his way back to the Hall. "What a strange interest I feel in that gipsy girl," he said to himself, "her face seems like one I have seen somewhere, perhaps in a dream. The old philosophers say that when we feel this toward a stranger, their fate is somehow connected with ours-what unaccountable link connects her with me ? I have every reason to hate her people, for they kidnapped my sweet little cousin, whom I remember as a smiling babe, from this very manor, and God knows that, although her death-for dead indeed she must be-has given me broad lands, yet would I rather that she lived than that I gained wealth at her cost. Am I not wrong," he said, checking his horse, "to be deluded thus by any of the accursed race ? It is surely a plot to lure me into their hands. But why should I fear? Besides the girl said she was not oftheir race, and she wore an air of truth. I would give any thing could I unravel this riddle. Shall I advance or even now go back ? Ah! here come John and Thomas too-a lucky meeting." The scene was changed, as he spoke, by the appearance of a couple of game-keepers on the road a few paces ahead. He called them instantly to his side, and in reply to their respectful salutations asked them if they had met any one on the road. They replied in the negative. This at once satisfied him that the gipsy girl had informed him aright, but he now resolved to face the danger, availing himself, however, of the aid of his two armed game-keepers. Without revealing to them his intentions, he told them to repair, by a cross-cut through the woods, to the place which the gipsy girl had named as that of the contemplated attack, and there, secreting themselves in the underwood, to await his coming . "If you see me, still do not move. Lie by till I call you. Why-you will learn in good time. The crosscut is a mile nearer than the road, and you will reach the place a quarter of an hour before me. Be cautious, and if you meet with other men, do not betray your vicinity. Only look to the priming of your guns," and
with these words he dismissed the men, and began to retrace his steps. "The villains," he said, " I shall catch them now in their own trap. Thanks to that sybil-like creature for her warning. Perhaps I owe her my life-my sister shall seek her out and reward her. What a splendid creature she is--and how her face haunts me ! Ah! I shall have these murderous wretches in my power, caught in the very act, of highway robbery, in less than an hour." Thus soliloquizing to himself- now of the robbers, now of the gipsy girl - the young man retraced his steps until he reached the lane, when he continued his journey as he had at first projected. Stanhope Vaux had a bold heart, as was evinced by his present daring movement, but as he drew near the place which the gipsy girl had pointed out as the spot where he was to be waylaid, he began to have uneasy misgivings as to the result of his undertaking. The least failure in the game-keepers to reach the appointed spot in time, would disconcert the whole plot, and leave him at the mercy of the gipsies, unless, as was highly improbable, he could repulse them alone. As he entered the low, dark dell, which the gipsy girl had told him was the spot selected for the attack, these misgivings acquired tenfold force. His heart, however, did not fail him, but the consciousness of his peril was increased. He rode, therefore, slowly and cautiously, narrowly watching every thicket, and he was not consequently taken by surprise, when a man, rushing suddenly from a covert, endeavored to check his horse, at the same time aiming a blow with a bludgeon at the head of Stanhope, which the young man dexterously avoided. Upon the instant, three powerful gipsies sprang into the road, and Stanhope found himself engaged with four persons, each one of whom was fully his equal. His own men did not seem to be within call, for, although he shouted for aid, no succor came. Luckily he was armed with a heavy riding whip, and backing his horse against the bank, he boldly faced his foes, dealing his blows around him with such effect that, for some minutes, he kept his assailants at bay. The odds, however, against him were too great for ultimate triumph. Three of the men still kept pressing on his front, and though the fourth one had momently disappeared, Stanhope knew his absence only boded further peril. Nor was he mistaken. Suddenly he heard a bough crackle above him, and looking hastily up he beheld the other gipsy on the bank overhead, in the very act of levelling a blow at him with a cudgel. It was the work of an instant to dash his horse forward, but this only exposed his rear as well as his front to the foe. The gipsies saw their advantage, and rushed with loud shouts on him, while their companion , springing again into the road, assailed Stanhope from behind. The young man felt that the robbers were overpowering him, and that, in another instant, he would be wholly in their
