ceives as a reward of its hospitality a rich share of the prey. If a foe approach, the crab at once warns its dear comrade, who lives a life free from care, confiding in the watchfulness of the crab. Unfortunately, there is not a word of truth in all these marvellous stories. The sole reason why the little Pinnotheres takes up its abode in the strange shell, is the softness of its covering, which would expose it to attack; nor is the Pinna found to display any peculiar affection for its so-called guardian; for the latter often has much trouble ere it can creep into it again. According to Thompson, the Modiola vulgaris, a species of esculent mussel, which is very frequently found on the Irish coast, is obliged to shelter several Pinnotheres (P. pisum). At Heligoland, Oetke rarely found a modiola which did not contain a couple of lodgers; but he never found crabs billeted on oysters, esculent mussels, or other allied varieties. What can be the reason for that preference, and this aversion ?* The immense family of Paguri or Hermit Crabs is also condemned to a parasitic or predatory life by its structure. The anterior part of the body is equipped, as in other crabs, with breast-plate and claws; but terminates in a long soft tail provided with two hooks. The posterior part is not formed for swimming, and its weight prevents it crawling. Hence no resource is left but to look about for a suitable support; and this is offered it in various Spiral Shells, Periwinkles, Nerites, &c., to which the Hermit Crabs affix themselves so firmly by means of their hooked tails, that the house seems to belong to them. So long as they are young and weak, they may be content with empty shells; but when they are of larger growth, they attack living specimens, seize the molluscs with their tails, before they can draw back, and after devouring the tender flesh of their victim walk with the utmost coolness into the house, which fits them most comfortably, and whose opening they guard with their larger claw, just as the original owner did with its lid. If the Paguri find their home too tight for them, it costs them but small trouble to obtain another; for, wherever they are found, there is always a number of sea-snails. Paguri are found The Pea-pinnotheres (Pinnotheres pisum) is said to be met with in all bivalve shells. † Mr. Lewis, in his Sea-side Studies, contra dicts this fact, Who shall decide when doctors disagree? on nearly every beach, and almost every new voyage of discovery produces fresh varieties, so that they are the commonest of the Crab family. At the Mariannes, New Guinea, and Timor, they are present in enormous quantities, according to Quoy and Gaymard. The beach of the islet of Kewa, in Coupangbay, is perfectly covered with them. In the hot hours of the day, they seek the shade of the bushes; but when evening approaches, they make their appearance by thousands. Although they put up with any large shell, they are chiefly found here in the Nerites. The celebrated East Indian Purse Crab (Birgus latro), a connecting link between the long and short tails, bears a great resemblance to the Paguri. It is accused of climbing the cocoa palm and plucking the heavy fruit; but Darwin, who frequently observed it on the Keeling Islands, assures us that the crab feeds on the fallen nuts. In this it evinces a degree of skill, which is one of the most marvellous instances of instinct. We may remark, that its anterior pair of legs is provided with very large powerful claws, while the hindermost terminate in small weak nippers. When it has selected a nut for its meal, it begins by pulling off the fibrous shell, and always on that side where the three eye-holes are. Then it hammers away with its heavy claw at one of these, till the door opens. Finally, it turns round, thrusts its nippers through the holes, and pulls out the soft, delicious fruit. It lives much on land, and inhabits deep holes, where it piles up an astounding quantity of cocoa fibre, on which it rests softly and comfortably. The tail is filled with a buttery substance, which is said to be excellent eating. A single Birgus will sometimes yield a bottle of oil. Bad times are, however, impending over it, at any rate on the Keeling Islands, as, to the great annoyance of Mynheer, the English have recently taken possession of them, and will grievously disturb the poor Purse Crab. The long tail which the Pagurus hides in shells, forms, in the Lobster and the Prawn, a most magnificent organ of motion, for though these animals have finely formed legs, owing to the peculiar formation of the body they can crawl but slowly. But nothing can surpass their speed in swimming, or rather in shooting backwards through the water. With a single blow of its powerful tail, which terminates in a broad paddle, the lobster will come a distance of twenty feet. The little prawn (Crangon vulgaris) though unable to take such leaps, in proportion to its size, is in no way inferior to the lobster in its power of motion, and is indubitably one of the most active denizens of the sea. It is found in countless numbers on the sandy shores of the German Ocean, not far from the water's edge, where it swims on the surface, at times leaping into the air like a sportive insect. The fishermen go about a couple of feet into the sea, and throw before them a net fastened to a long pole, which they empty from time to time into baskets hanging on their backs. The Squilla Mantis, of the Mediterranean, which is rather like our prawn in shape, differs, however, materially from it, from the fact that its gills hang freely like fins from the ventral feet. It is very good eating, and holds a high position among the frutti del mare. Of all the Crustaceans, none stand so high in estimation as the Lobster. It lives chiefly in deep blue water, on rocky coasts, where it is caught in baskets known by the name of Plumpers. These consist of a thick iron ring, to which a weighted net is attached, the bait being placed in the centre. The ring is let down by means of a small cord, worked by a cork float, and pulled up about half an hour later with a sharp jerk, so that the lobster may fall into the net. This mode of fishing can only be employed in deep water; for the dining lobster, although enjoying the dainty meal, would notice the movement of the boat, and escape the danger. At least 200,000 lobsters are annually exported from Norway to England alone. Great numbers are also caught on the rocky coasts of Ireland and Scotland. The lobster fishery is also of great importance to Heligoland, and formerly must have been even more considerable. At the beginning of the last century, the fishery was let out to a London speculator. In 1713 he caught about 18,000, and in 1714, 34,989. The first lobsters of the season are often sold for a dollar apiece. We see thus, that the commercial value of these animals is rather considerable; and, yet, they are a long way from being so valuable as the small Herring Crab (Cancer halecum) of the Northern seas, which is of the greatest intermediate use to man, as it is the staple food of the herring. The Lobster lays, in the summer months, many thousand eggs in the sand, leaving the further care of its progeny to the blessed sun, and the instinct which is aroused immediately after birth. It may be imagined that only a small portion of them grow large enough to parade in red livery on the tables of the rich. Like all the crustaceans, the lobster casts its shell yearly, and that so perfectly, that the rejected shell with all its feet and feelers, bears a most deceptive resemblance to a full lobster. When we reflect on the hardness of the covering and its numerous offshoots, especially the broad claws affixed to so narrow a neck, we ask ourselves, with some amazement, how the animal sets to work to liberate its body from such liga ments. We will give a short account of this remarkable process, as it has been watched in tanks in which lobsters are kept. When, toward autumn, the time for casting the shell approaches, the animal retreats to some secluded nook, like a pious hermit to his cell, and fasts for some days. The shell gradually separates from the body, and beneath it a new tender membrane is found. About this time, the old garment seems to annoy the lobster excessively for it is seen to make the most strenuous exertions to break off all existing relations with it. Presently the shell bursts asunder up the back, like a ripe seed-pod, and leaves a broad exit for the animal which is panting for freedom. After considerable pulling and haul most trouble; but it knows that perseverance will accomplish the most difficult task, and does not stop till it has drawn the elastic mass through the narrow gateway. We can comprehend that the animal, after such a hot fight for liberty, must feel greatly exhausted. Conscious of its weakness and insufficient means of defence, it retires for a season, modestly and timidly, from all society. It is most afraid of its physically, as well as morally, hard brethren; for they are delighted to fall on such a defenceless fellow, and devour him, tail and claws, without ceremony. The owners of the lobster-tanks hence keep careful watch, and when they perceive that one of their prisoners is about to cast its shell, they remove it to a separate tank, where it is allowed to grow soft without peril. The common Crawfish (Palinurus vulgaris) is equally as valuable as the Lobster in the German Ocean, the Mediterranean, and the West Coast of France. It grows over four feet long, and attains a weight of twelve to fifteen pounds. The long prickly feelers are bent backwards, the rough down-covered shell is of a greenish brown, and the tail marked with yellow spots. The meat is held in high estimation. Like the Lobster, it lives on rocky coasts, where it prefers to hide itself under stones. Very curious, too, is the ease with which crustaceans can throw off their legs, and even their heavy claws, when wounded in one of these limbs, or alarmed by a storm. They run a away, without any appearance of pain, on their other legs. After a while a new limb grows from the old stump, though it never reaches the size of its predecessor; thus, crabs are often found with one claw larger than the other, which is evidently of more recent growth. The wonderful metamorphoses of insects THE CAPTAIN OF THE VULTURE. CHAPTER XX. COMMITTED FOR TRIAL. MILLICENT and Darrell were taken to a dreary, dilapidated building called the lock-up, very rarely tenanted, save by some wandering vagrant, who had been found guilty of the offence of having nothing to eat; or some more troublesome delinquent, in the way of a poacher, who had been taken in the act of appropriating the hares and pheasants on a neighbouring preserve. To this place Hugh Martin, the constable, and his assistant, Bob, conducted gentle and delicately-nurtured Mrs. George Duke; and the only one privilege which the entreaties of Darrell and Sarah Pecker could obtain for her was the constable's permission to Sally to stop all night in the cell with the female prisoner. Darrell prayed Hugh Martin to take them straight to the house of Mr. Montague Bowers, that any examination which had to take place might take place that very night; but the coustable shook his head gravely, and said that Mr. Bowers had made up his mind to wait till morning. So in a dilapidated chamber, which had been divided across the centre by a thin wooden partition, for the accommodation of an occasional press of prisoners, Millicent and Sarah spent that long and dismal night. A dirty casement-window, secured by bars of rusty iron, only separated them from the village street. They could see the feeble lights in cottage windows, blurred and dim through the dirty glass; and could hear every now and then the footsteps of a passer-by, crunching the crisp snow beneath his tread. Millicent, lying on a truckle bed beneath this window and listening to those passing footsteps, remembered how often she had gone by that dismal building, and how utterly unmindful she had been of those within. She shuddered as she looked at the ragged damp stains on the plaster walls, that made themselves into ugly faces in the uncertain flicker of a rushlight, remembering how many helpless creatures must have lain there through long winter nights like this, conjuring hideous faces from the same crooked lines and blotches, and counting the cobwebs hanging from the roof. Mrs. Pecker, wrapped in a grey woollen cloak, sat on a wooden stool by the bed side, with her head resting on Millicent's wretched straw pillow. She had completely worn herself out with protestations against the arrest, and was fain to keep silence from sheer exhaustion. 66 Sally, dear," said Millicent, "do you think innocent people are often locked up here ?" "Lud no, Miss Milly!" answered Sarah, waking out of a half slumber, "I should think not. It's mostly tramps and beg gars, and such like as they put in here; and, goodness knows, there ain't much innocence about them. Only to think, only to think that the cruel wretches should put my old master's daughter into such a place!-to think that such things can be done in a free country! But the king shall hear of it upon his throne, Miss Milly, as sure as my name's Sally Pecker, and then we'll see if they'll dare keep you in prison." It was strange that since her arrest and removal to this dreary lock-up Millicent Duke had seemed to recover the quiet gentleness which was so much a part of her nature. She had been incoherent before, but she was now perfectly calm and collected; and instead of requiring consolation and support from her friend, it was she who now soothed and comforted the broken-hearted Sarah. I have said that hers was one of those natures which rise with the occasion; and though a shrinking, timid soul at ordinary times, she might on emergency have become a heroine. Not a Joan of Arc nor a Char lotte Corday, nor any such energetic creature; but a gentle, saintly martyr of the old Roman Catholic days, quietly going forth to meet her death without a murmur. She put her arms about Mrs. Pecker's neck, and tenderly embraced the outraged matron. "All will be right in the end, dear," she said; "they never, never, never can think me guilty of this dreadful deed. They are searching for the real murderer, perhaps, this very night, while I lie here. God, who knows that I am innocent, will never permit me to suffer." "Permit you to suffer! No, no, no, darling, no," cried Sarah, clinging about Millicent, and bursting into a passion of tears. She remembered, with a shudder, what it was that Mrs. Duke meant by that word, suffer. She remembered how many hapless wretches suffered in those days, and how scarcely a week went by unmarked by an execution at Carlisle. How did she know that all who died that ignominious death were guilty of the crimes whose penalty they paid? She had never thought of it till now; taking it always for granted that judges and juries knew best; and that these cold-blooded judicial murders were done for the good of the nation. But how if judges and juries should sometimes be mistaken? How if it should please some twelve blockheads to pronounce her old master's daughter guilty of a horrible murder! Oh, Miss Milly, Miss Milly, if I had only been with you last night," she said; "I had half a mind to have come down to the Hall after Mr. Darrell left you; but I knew I was no favourite with Captain Duke, and I thought my coming might only make him angry against you." The last footfall died away upon the snow, the last dim light faded out in the village street, the long winter night, seeming almost eternal to the two women, wore itself out, and the cheerless daybreak showed a wan and ghastly face at the barred casements of Compton jail. A little after eight, Hugh Martin, the constable, unbolted the door of the cell, and tapped against the rotten woodwork for permission to enter. He found Millicent sitting on the edge of the truckle bed, dressed and ready to accompany him. Her cheeks and lips were bloodless, and her eyes, encircled by purple shadows, seemed to have grown larger since the night of the murder; but she was perfectly collected. The constable, moved with pity for her youth and entle nature, had brought her a dish of warm tea; which she drank patiently and gratefully, though every drop seemed to choke her. She asked several questions about Darrell Markham, and told the constable that her cousin could have little difficulty in proving his innocence, as he had left the Hall long before the commission of the murder; but she said nothing whatever of herself, or of the injustice of the charge made against her. A coach, hired from the Black Bear, carried the two prisoners to the magistrate's house; but Hugh Martin took good care that Darrell and his cousin were kept apart, the young man sitting on the box beside the coachman. The family was at breakfast when the little party arrived, and the prisoners heard the pleasant prattle of children's voices, as they were ushered through the hall into the magistrate's study. A grim chamber this hall of audience, lighted by two narrow windows looking out upon the stables, and furnished with stiff, high-backed oaken chairs, ponderous tables, and a solemnfaced clock, calculated to strike terror to the heart of a criminal. Here Millicent and Darrell, with Hugh Martin the constable, and Sarah Pecker, waited for Mr. Montague Bowers, Justice of the Peace, to make his appearance. Hanging about the hall and gathered round the door of this chamber, were several people who had persuaded themselves into the idea that they knew something of the disappearance of Captain Duke, and were eager to serve the State by giving evidence to that effect. The ostler, who had aroused the constable; half a dozen men who had helped in the ineffectual search for the body; a woman who had assisted in conveying Mrs. Meggis, the deaf housekeeper, to the spot that morning, and many others equally unconnected with the case were amongst these. There was therefore a general sensation of disappointment and injury when Mr. Montague Bowers, coming away from his breakfast, selected Samuel Pecker from amongst this group of outsiders, and bidding the innkeeper follow him, walked into the chamber of justice, and closed the door upon the rest. "Now, Mr. Pecker," said the Justice, seating himself at the oaken table, and dipping a pen into the ink, "what have you to say about this business?" Taken at a disadvantage thus, Samuel Pecker had very little indeed to say about it. He could only breathe hard, fidget nervously with his plaited ruffles (he had put on his Sunday clothes in honour of the occasion), and stare at the Justice's clerk, who sat pen in hand, waiting to take down the innkeeper's deposition. Come, Mr. Pecker," said the Justice, "what have you to state respecting the missing man?" Samuel scratched his head vaguely, and looked appealingly at his wife, Sarah, who sat by the side of Mrs. Duke, weeping audibly. Meaning him as was murdered," suggested Mr. Pecker. 66 Meaning Captain George Duke," replied the Justice. Ah, but there it is," exclaimed the bewildered Samuel; "that's just where it is. Captain George Duke. Very good; but which of them? Him as asked me |