d at
Shirley's door, and proposed a long walk into the country before
breakfast.

The young Quaker was already dressed, and he accepted the invitation
with pleasure, hoping, by the way, to induce his friend to reveal the
cause of his grief. In the parlour they were joined by little Rachel,
who begged so earnestly to accompany them, that George insisted on her
request being granted.

The morning was delightful, the dews sparkled on the grass, and the
blackbird poured his merry lay from among the high hawthorn hedges that
rose on either side of them.

The spirits of the little party rose in proportion to the beauty of the
morning; and they directed their course down a long, lonely, but very
romantic lane, over-arched with old oaks, that formed a rich canopy
over their heads.

Rachel ran laughing on before, filling a little basket she had in her
hand with flowers; then, having passed a sudden angle in the lane, the
friends were alarmed by her giving a loud scream.

"What can have happened?" cried Josiah, hurrying forward. "I am afraid
she has trod upon a snake among the flowers."

He had scarcely finished speaking, before Rachel came running towards
them, out of breath, and very pale; and, flinging her arms round Josiah,
she sobbed in the most agitated manner.

"Turn back! turn back, Josiah! There is something dreadful in the road."

"Do not be alarmed, Rachel; it shall not hurt thee," said Josiah, still
fancying she had seen a snake.

"Oh no, it is dead! and the ground is all bloody! and it looks as pale
as George did, when they took him out of the pond."

Frightened in his turn, Josiah burst from the hold of the terrified
child; and, bidding her sit down on the bank till he returned, the two
friends, with faces almost as white as Rachel's, proceeded to the spot
she described.

What language can describe the horror they felt, when, on turning the
projection of the lane, they beheld the mangled body of Daniel Simpson,
lying dead across the path.

This wretched young man had stayed drinking late at the fair; and,
returning home in a taxed cart, in a state of intoxication, the horse
took fright, and, turning suddenly down this narrow lane, Simpson lost
his balance, and fell out of the cart, with violence to the ground; and,
the wheel going over his head, he was killed on the spot.

Thus did this wicked young man come to a deplorable end, on the very
night that a twelvemonth before he had so successfully plot