from the old man's basket, snapt a pistol over them, and, as the flame subsided, he trode down the ashes with the heel of his boot.

Paul walked slowly on. A mother sat at her door instructing her child. "You have three things to love, Francie,-your God, your parents, and your country. If you love not your parents, you will not love your country; and, if you love not both, your service to God can neither be pure nor acceptable. Those who love their country will fight for her, and, if needs be, die for her, like William Wallace of old, and those who hate her will betray her saviours, and spill her best blood, like Monteath of old and Paul Jones now." The eyes of the child glistened, and he said, "Mother, make me a man, and I will take my father's sword and kill them both." She stroked his curled head and smiled. "Thou wilt not need; their country's curse is on them, and in the speech of Scotland they daily die a thousand deaths." Paul laid his hand on her son's head and said, "If thou but livest far from the shadow of the oppressor's house and the reach of his hand, thou wilt be an honour to Scotland." A piece of gold fell at the child's feet, and Paul walked on.

He came to the door of an inn,-there the curlers, having forsaken their slippery pastime, were seated round a smoking bowl of punch, recounting their labours. One drew a tee-long shot,-another won the game by the dexterous use of his besom and the li

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cense of his tongue,- -a third ran a narrow port which an evil spirit could hardly have threaded,-a fourth ventured a hogg,-and a fifth struck out seven stones at one blow; all talked loud, and all talked together. "I'll tell ye what," said a brawny peasant, striking the table with his fist till he made the glasses ring, our parish will play eighteen a side against the pick of Siddick and Colvend both."-"Your parish !" said a peasant opposite with a look of scorn, "when did your parish grow famous for aught but a bousing parson and pirate Paul? Can ye compare your parish with sweet Colvend, that produces nought worse than good elders for the kirk and faithful sailors for the country?" Paul drew his cloak closer, and listened with the hope of hearing a milder opinion expressed of his conduct,-the controversy took a religious turn; and he hastened on.

He approached a little lonesome cottage,-its owner a matron, grey with age and bent and infirm, knelt under the bourtree hedge which enclosed her garden,-she prayed anxiously and audibly. "And, oh, my ae boy, who guides his bark on thy unruly deep, may thy favour fill his sails, and mayest thou keep him from falling into the tempter's snare as well as from sinking in the Send him home, if such be thy will, a blessing to his mother, and no a curse like the son of Prudence Paul, whose name is a reproach to the Solway side, and whose latter end will be fearful."

sea.

Paul went on, and there came an old man leading an ass laden with commodities suitable for the rustic market. The animal was moderately burdened, but, full of the restive obstinacy of its nature, it gave its master as much trouble and brought as much pain to itself as it well could. It ran round like a mill-wheel,-started to one side,-bolted suddenly forward,—threw its heels into the air,—then planted its fore-feet, stood stock-still, and set up a cry, long, loud, and dolorous. "Paul, my bonnie man,-Paul, my poor fallow," said the owner, stroking the neck and long ears of his servant," come hame, and ye shall have fresh hay and a mouthfu' of winnowed corn.' But the ass seemed to have a mind of its own in all matters of convenience or labour, and stood as fast as if it had been hewn out of stone. "Confound thee and all thy race for a pack of born gomerals!" exclaimed the owner, ye kenna what's good for ye! There, take admonition frae my pikestaff, for ye have nae sense to swallow wholesome advice till it comes in the shape of a blow. Paul did I call thee ?-Paul Jones was a knave like thee, for thou tookest other men's corn,— an ungrateful fool like thee, for rebelling against an indulgent master;-but Paul never was the gowk yet to reest up in the middle of a road for the mere pleasure of being diligently beaten."

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The ass, thus admonished by tongue and staff, began to move forward, and the owner, somewhat

mollified, said, “And yet, I trow, Paul was waur than thee, my poor dumb servant! for the shot frae his accursed ship slew my ae son in the howe of the sea, and left me childless to seek my bread through a cauld and a scornfu' world." Paul drew his hat over his eyes, put money into the old man's hand, and hurried onwards. "I wonder now who that liberal stranger may be ?" muttered the rustic to himself, as he balanced the money piece by piece, and put it safe into the recess of a leathern wallet,-" I wonder wha he can be?-but fair fa' his hand, for it's a frank ane,five gowd pieces nae less! But wherefore need I ferlie ?—the man has a seafaring look,—a sailor's only wise in five fathom of water,—and I'll warrant the gowd's no owre honestly come by, else he wadna have flung it frae him sae daftly.”

The evening stars now began to glimmer, angry gusts of wind rushed from the sea, and the dark pine-grove into which Paul entered was shaken violently, and shed its withered cones around him. Before him the tower of Dalveen rose huge and gray,-behind him the sea of Solway murmured surly and dark,-he advanced with a hesitating step and a throbbing heart. He entered a little avenue shaded with holly; Lady Phemie Dalzell was walking there closely mantled from the winter cold, and wearing a little hat and slouching feather, from beneath which descended her glittering locks in thick and curling masses.

Paul did not see her without emotion; she lifted up her eyes, looked on him for a moment, and, with a low and sorrowful voice, said, "Paul, I am grieved though not surprised to see you here; estranged as your heart is from your native land, bitter and bloody as your hatred has been against it, you cannot blot from your heart the memory of early days, nor cease to feel that with it your thoughts must till death be interwoven. I shall not wrong you so much as to suppose that you have not hours of bitterness of heart for the insane and ungenerous part you have acted; but in the same breath that I tell you this,—in the same moment that I own you have done your deeds of baseness bravely, and that you have abused the fairest gifts of Heaven, I command you to leave my presence, to go from this land ;-your foot is no longer worthy of touching Scottish ground, nor can any one hold speech with you without degradation. Farewell.” She turned coldly and sadly away.

"Hear me, lady," said Paul, "hear me for the last time !-if you will not hear me, who will ?”—“ Sir,” she said, turning half-round, “Can the head clear you when the heart condemns you? the heart, the heart, Paul, of Scotland is against you; and God be judge between your country and you." She waved him from her, and slowly disappeared. Paul stood awed and overpowered;