nts, however distant, and stop the combat.

Now as she struggled on, and Tom came after, panting a little for the
first time, suddenly there rose from the crest of the hill two columns
of smoke, and the next moment two sharp reports ran through the frosty
air.

Kate stopped, and looked round to Tom with a scared, inquiring air.

"Pistols!" yelled Tom behind her.

At that the woman overpowered the heroine, and Kate hid her face and
fell to trembling and wailing. Her wearied horse came down to a walk.

Presently up comes Tom.

"Don't lose your stomach for that," he panted out. "Gentlefolks do pop
at one another all day sometimes, and no harm done."

"Oh, bless you!" cried Kate; "I may yet be in time."

She spurred her horse on. He did his best, but ere he had gone twenty
yards he plunged into a cavity hidden by the snow.

While he was floundering there, crack went a single pistol, and the
smoke rose and drifted over the hill-top.

"Who--op!" muttered Tom, with horrible _sang-froid_. "There's one done
for this time. Couldn't shoot back, ye see."

At this horrible explanation Kate sank forward on her horse's mane as if
she herself had been killed; and the smoke from the pistol came
floating, thinner and thinner, and eddied high over her head.

Tom spoke rude words of encouragement to her. She did not even seem to
hear them. Then he lost all patience at her, and clutched her arm to
make her hear him. But at that it seemed as if some of his nature passed
into her down his arm; for she turned wild directly, and urged her horse
fiercely up the crest. Her progress was slow at first; but the sun had
melted the snow on the Nob or extreme summit. She tore her way through
the last of the snow on to the clear piece,--then, white as ashes,
spurred and lashed her horse over the ridge, and dashed in amongst them
on the other side. For there they were.

What was the sight that met her eyes?

That belongs to the male branch of my story, and shall be told
forthwith, but in its proper sequence.

REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES.

_Life and Letters of Frederick W. Robertson, M.A._,
Incumbent of Trinity Chapel, Brighton, 1847-1853. Edited by
STOPFORD A. BROOKE, M. A. Two Volumes. Boston: Ticknor &
Fields.

The Life and Letters of Mr. Robertson will find a most extended and
appreciative welcome among a large company of sympathizing and grateful
readers on both sides of the ocean. The way has been pr