"And little should I like to meet them," answered Luke Willingham, smiling; "but a good half hour's ride will bring us into Newport, and methinks there is no cause for fear."

This is, certainly, the bright side of the view, and we think the bright predominated; but, as

"Every white must have its blacke,
And every swete its soure,"

so, what with bad roads, or lame horses, or wrong direc-
tions, the poor traveller sometimes came, in the midst of
his journey to a stand-still; while, as to companions, he
sometimes met with "clerks of St. Nicholas," instead of
honest men and good Christians, who gave him, at least,
some cause for thankfulness, inasmuch as they had spared
his life, although they had relieved him of his money.
It was the fate of the hero of our story to prove both
the sweets and the sours of the mode of travelling first;
and as worthy Mr. Fleming, whose father knew him well,
set down the whole account in his commonplace book,
among divers anecdotes related "by a most credible
gentlewoman," and reminiscences of the days of the Par-
liament, told me by mine highly honoured father," or
by "worthy Master Ashford, who dyed in 1696-7, aged
fourscore," we will take the liberty of copying it—in our
own words, however, as the good old gentleman occasion-
ally is rather prosy-for the benefit of our readers.

Pleasantly, on his good roan steed, although alone, and the sun was setting, trotted young Luke Willingham along a bye-road that led to Newport Pagnel. He was wrapped in a large travelling cloak, fastened round the waist by a broad leathern band, in which were two pistols ; and the reason that these were so conspicuous might probably have been found in the contents of the small leathern mail which was carefully strapped before him on the saddle. He was a fine open-countenanced young man, and as onward he went, he beguiled the way by singing, not one of the scoffing cavalier ballads-for Luke Willingham's cap was decked with a large bow of dark blue ribbon, the badge of the Parliament-but a sober rhyme, that prophesied the success of the good cause, and eulogised the stedfast bravery of the Parliament soldiers; and, intent on his song, two horsemen approached almost beside him, ere he was aware of their coming. The one was a young gentleman, at least so the fineness of his cloak and the rich lace of his band seemed to prove; the other, who followed closely, seemed the servant with his master's mail and cloak-bag.

"More safe than two months ago," replied Luke Willingham, laughing, "thanks to Colonel Cromwell and his gallant Ironsides. In truth, worthy Sir, when I last eame this road, I was fain to wait for Cornet Winslow and his company, for fear of Sir Charles Lucas and his crew."

"There's little fear of them now, truly," said the gentleman; "but still, I trust we shall get to Newport before nightfall. I should be loath to meet any to say • stand and deliver,' seeing that my servant hath some

"You are bound to London, I suppose," said the gentleman, carelessly.

"Yes, good Sir, and I would I might reach there tonight; but Heaven forfend that I should not reach the Silver Unicorn by to-morrow at noon."

"You are the young man, then, that came down to Northampton, in company with worthy Master Armisted, the draper, three days ago, are you not?" said the gentleman.

66

The same, good Sir," replied Luke, "and I ought to have returned with him, only he is a day beyond his time."

"And yet, would it not have been better to have waited for him? There is he, and his man Ralph, and his 'prentice Gilbert, and you are quite alone, and with this ;" and the gentleman carelessly touched the mail that was strapped on Luke's saddle.

'Why, truly, good Sir," said he, "it is perhaps foolhardy, but what could I do? I have solemnly promised Master Forster-and he hath been a good master to me to be home by to-morrow noon, and never while he liveth, by God's grace, will Luke Willingham break his word."

"Well said, my gallant London 'prentice," said the gentleman, smiling; "and do you serve good Master Forster of Ludgate, over against Martin Church? Though I know him not, I well know his workmanship, for he made Sir William Houghton's tall standing cup and cover -a beautiful cup."

Luke Willingham's eyes sparkled at the praises bestowed on the master who had been as a father to him. 'Ye say well, Sir; for few, I trow, can equal my good master in working both gold and silver. I would ye had seen the gold pouncet-box I took to Sir William Houghton."

Ay, old Sir William spareth no cost in such things," said the gentleman, laughing. "Well, what say ye to his gold chain, that precious relic always worn, on Sundays and high days, over his cut velvet gown? Soothly, had Sir Charles Lucas's troops reached Houghton Pleasaunce, as they intended, that chain, I'll warrant me, had been carried to Oxford."

"And it would have broken the poor old gentleman's heart," replied Luke Willingham. "It is, indeed, a beautiful chain, though very ancient, and I marvel not he sets such store by it."

"'Twas said it had been broken, and 'twas thought a bad omen; but we won the day out yonder, so it boded no ill to the good cause."

"O, no, and it will soon be mended and re-burnished; for Sir William must have it back against his daughter's wedding. Heaven grant I reach London safely."

"Yea! my 'prentice bold; what, is Sir William's precious chain there?' said the gentleman, again touching the mail with his riding whip.

Poor Luke hesitated, and looked anxiously at his questioner. He had been so completely thrown off his guard by the familiar courtesy of his companion, that ere he was

"Aha! one who is no favourite with your crew, I trow. Hast ever heard of Sir Marmaduke Sherrington, of Sherrington Manor house over yonder?''

Yes; Luke had indeed heard of him, for he was viewed as one of the most powerful supporters of the royalist party in all the country round; and he, too, of all the neighbouring gentry who held the same views, was the one most dreaded by Sir William Houghton, who, old and feeble, felt, that when the contest again broke out, little chance would he have against a neighbour, not only equal in wealth and tenantry, but in the prime of life, and already distinguished as a gallant soldier.

The farmer, whose obtuse faculties were probably sharpened by political and religious enmity, seemed to read the young man's thoughts. "Ay," said he, chuckling, "Sir Marmaduke will keep you safe, I'll warrant." 'Why should he?" said Luke.

"Why should he?' cried the farmer; "why, if you come from London you can, mayhap, tell the council at Oxford somewhat of what your devilish crew mean to set about next. 'Twas not out of love to you, I promise you, that Sir Marmaduke sent you here. But you must take it for your pains, youngster, as a judgment, as Dr. Swillwell saith, on those who despise holy mother Church, and follow after canting and psalm-singing."

But he treated me most kindly, and told me he would himself seek after the robbers," said Luke, rather expressing his thoughts aloud, than intending a reply.

"Why did he?" said the farmer. "Well, that passes my understanding; and yet I was always mortal 'cute at finding out things. Sir Marmaduke is a gentleman to keep his word, as all the country round knows; and he isn't given to tricks and cunning ways, that make a man laugh till his sides ache, like Major Hobart. But he's Church and King to the back bone- - ay, Church and King for ever!" The farmer could not do less than empty the tankard, which had stood untasted by his guest, to this toast; and having already done the same many times in the course of the day, the malt produced its usual effect, and he sank in his great wicker chair, still grunting in disturbed slumber these potent words.

An anxious hour did Luke Willingham pass. Should he attempt to escape? The high road was not far off, and once upon that he should be safe. But then, there were voices in the adjoining room-the farm-servants were doubtless there, and he was utterly unarmed. Even his horse had been carried off, and he was still too weak to walk far. And yet, if he stayed, what were Sir Marmaduke's intentions towards him? Was he indeed the good Samaritan he appeared to be, or the fierce and bitter Cavalier, furious at the late defeat of the royalist force, and reckless of all but the success of the royal cause? O how long the time seemed; and how did he start at each lightest sound.

At length the tramp of approaching horsemen was heard. Yes, of more than two; and while the farmer hastily started up, still rubbing his eyes, and went out to meet them, poor Luke's anxiety became agony.

In they came. Sir Marmaduke, his servant bearing the very mail-how did Luke's heart beat at the sight of it-and three or four of Sir Charles Lucas's troops well did he know the red coat faced with yellow, and the scarlet plume-while, casting an exulting look towards his guest, the old farmer brought up the rear.

"Is this your property, young man ?" said Sir Marmaduke, as the servant placed the mail on the table. "It is, worshipful Sir."

"Look over the contents then, and see that nothing is missing."

With a trembling hand, Luke Willingham unfastened the straps, and took out the precious contents-the two parcel-gilt porringers, the broken pestel spoons, the gold pouncet-box, still smelling of musk and ambergris, and in its curious old shagreen case, the highly-prized gold chain. "All is safe, worshipful Sir," said Luke, looking up in Sir Marmaduke's face with intense anxiety, and | tremblingly awaiting the reply.

"Then take them, my poor young man," said the knight kindly. "Heaven forbid that we should rob defenceless travellers on the highway. Make ready, and my servant shall see you safe into Newport. Go," continued he, turning to the trooper, "and tell Major Hobart that I am satisfied; but for his speech to me he must answer another day."

"That will he, worshipful Sir," said the chief trooper ; "but if such strict hand is to be kept over loyal gentlemen, we may be fain to join Colonel Cromwell's troops, and hear sermons by the hour-glass, and pay for all that we have."

"As you list," replied Sir Marmaduke sternly; " but be assured of this, that while I continue in this county, all attempts to spoil peaceable travellers, whether made by the meanest trooper, or by Sir Charles Lucas himself, will I put down."

The troopers departed, muttering threats, and followed to the gate by the astonished farmer, while Luke Willingham, with gayful heart, carefully re-fastened his restored mail, and prepared to depart. "Worshipful Sir," said he and his voice faltered, and his eyes filled with tears -"what can I say? Words, indeed, are easy; but I would I could show my gratitude in somewhat more substantial than mere words. You have been more than the good Samaritan to me, albeit a Cavalier. Would I could make you a fitting return!"

"Nay, thank me not, young man, for a mere act of justice,” replied Sir Marmaduke; “'tis well if I have convinced you that a Cavalier is not always a wolf in sheep's clothing. Farewell."

'O worthy Sir," said Luke Willingham, and his voice faltered with deep emotion, "that I might also give you proof that a Puritan is no canting knave. Good Sir, God alone knows how our contest may end; but, should trouble or danger happen-as who knows what is before us?—even to you, forget not, I pray you, the Silver Unicorn, near Ludgate, nor the name of Luke Willingham."

In safety, with his precious consignment, and by the appointed time, did Luke Willingham return to his master's house, where he told, to a wondering auditory, the tale of his attack and deliverance.

"We must show our sense of that honourable gentleman's kindness," said Master Forster, "by sending him forthwith some token of our gratitude."

There was much consultation as to what this token should be. At length a thumb-ring, with an emerald set therein-the emerald being considered to betoken sincerity and kindness-was made; and when Luke, a few weeks after, but in company with Cornet Winslow, and some dozen of his Ironsides, set off on his journey to take

Still the man seemed to linger-perhaps unable to go

band.

Again the war broke out in that quarter, and all communication between the contending parties was stayed. Little farther information could Luke therefore receive; but the little which he obtained, through his friend the elethier, still farther distressed him. Strange stories respecting Sir Marmaduke's conduct in the matter of the Loaden 'prentice had been spread abroad-even that he had not been true to his principles, and, therefore, for a large bribe, had taken his part. So, indignant at such sehoods, the worthy knight had gone to Oxford, to demand an inquiry before the king himself. Greatly did Lake grieve at this, and anxiously did he make inquiry. At length it was said that Sir Marmaduke Sherrington had returned to Sherrington manor-house, and that he was actively engaged in raising a troop of horse. This was the last intelligence he ever obtained, and years passed away, but nothing could he learn of his benefactor.

And now,

More than eight years passed away-eventful years. The battle of Naseby had crushed the hopes of the King; reeding events completed his overthrow; the very are of Monarch was abolished, and the final efforts of the royalists to place the son on that throne from whence the father had been driven were paralysed by that crowning mercy," the battle of Worcester. der the protection of him, whose sword had given peace the land, after ten years' conflict, that Monarch by nature's sovereignty, that "ruler by God's grace, and the might of his own soul," trade had revived, commerce w rapidly extending, and London, once more, as in the day of her Plantagenets, feasted her wealthy traders and her merchant princes.

And pleasant and prosperous had these eventful years been to Luke Willingham. He had, after the laudalle custom of many a worthy 'prentice, married his master's daughter, pretty Grace Forster, and had been taken into partnership by his master. wearied

And now, with the gains of business, as well as its cares, Master Forster had retired to "a garden house"-that coveted possession in those days of the retired citizen-out by Moorsfields; and the Silver Unicorn, which for so many years had swung before the goldsmith's door, now displayed the name of Luke Willingham.

It was before this sign that a meanly dressed man, wrapt in a threadbare cloak, stopped one bitter November afternoon, just as the twilight was coming on, and the streets were beginning to be deserted by the afternoon passengers. Master Willingham, for so he was now called, was standing beside the counter, keeping shop in the absence of his apprentices, and playing with his little girl. His attention was soon attracted by this stranger, who, cautiously, but evidently with much anxiety, kept peeping into the shop. As there were many suspicious persons, indeed strong thieves, about, since the battle of Worces

threadbare cloak more closely round him as the wind blew keenly up Ludgate Hill, the long, slender finger of a hand that had evidently never been occupied in labour, became visible. "Poor fellow," said Luke Willingham, "he is, doubtless, some ruined Cavalier." He drew out a bright shilling, and putting it into the hand of his little girl, he bade her carry it to the poor man, and return immediately.

Pleased with her errand, little Grace bounded to the door, and touched the stranger's hand with the coin. "Father sends you this, poor man," said she. The stranger started. little maiden?" said he.

"Is that your father yonder,

Yes; but he hath sent you this, poor man-this!" repeated little Grace, holding up the bright new shilling, and marvelling the stranger did not immediately take it. "Then give this to him, my little maiden," said he ; "but be sure and give it only into his hands."

The little girl bounded in, breathless with delight and wonder. "Look, father, look at this beautiful ring which the poor man hath sent you."

Scarcely a glance did Luke Willingham cast on the ring, for well did he know who stood a houseless, perchance a penniless, wanderer before his door. "O welcome, good Sir," cried he, as he almost dragged the stranger in. "Thank God that I can, in some small measure, repay your great kindness to me!"

And Sir Marmaduke came in ; and he laid aside his threadbare cloak, and sat down at Luke Willingham's comfortable fireside, in the great arm-chair that Master Forster used to occupy. And joyfully did Luke's pretty wife busy herself to prepare with her own hands a possit for the cold and weary wanderer; while Luke brought out the best standing silver cup, and a flask of the choicest Canary; and a pleasant evening after his dangers and wanderings did Sir Marmaduke Sherrington spend, as seated in the great arm-chair, with the younger Luke Willingham on his knee, and little Grace standing close beside, her bright blue eyes upturned wonderingly in his face, he listened to the story of Luke's success in his trade.

Less fortunate had been the lot of the worthy knight. With devotion worthy a far better cause, he had followed the fortunes of the Stuarts, even to the battle of Worcester. In this last contest he had been wounded, and had been nursed by some royalists, from whom, on his recovery, he learned that all who had taken part in it were under sentence of outlawry. On quitting them, he determined to make his way to London, justly considering that he would be safer there, than while wandering about the country; and after a long and weary journey, he arrived just in time to learn that some cavalier friends had chartered a small vessel, ostensibly with hardware for Holland, but with the intention of running her to Dunkirk, that they might join the exiled King.

As Sir Marmaduke was evidently most anxious to leave England-although he soon found that the story of the outlawry of him and his companions had no foundation-Luke Willingham laboured anxiously to provide his benefactor