est horse in his stables, and Wilford gained his bet, and
added to his character for invincibility, which, by the way, he cared
about much the most."

"It was a bold deed," returned I, as Archer concluded his story, "but
one does not like a man the better for having done it; there seems to me
a degree of wanton cruelty in punishing an animal so severely, unless he
had been actually forced to do it. Public executioners may be necessary
for the prevention of crime; but that is no reason why one need
volunteer as an amateur hangman."

"Everybody thought it an uncommonly plucky thing at the time, and there
was an immense fuss made with him afterwards," replied Archer.--"Why,
Lawless, are you asleep? rouse up, man--to bed--to bed. Good-night,
Fairlegh, you'll sleep all the better for knowing you are not to be shot
at cock-crow."

So saying, he took Lawless by the arm and marched him off, though, it
must be confessed, his gait, as he descended the stairs, was somewhat
unsteady.~182~~

CHAPTER XXIII -- WHAT HARRY AND I FOUND WHEN WE LOST OUR WAY

"It is too true an evil--gone she is.

Unhappy girl! Ah! who would be a father!"

"Far in the lane a lonely hut he found,
No tenant ventured on th' unwholesome ground,
Here smokes his forge: he bares his sinewy arm,
And early strokes the sounding anvil warm;
Around his shop the steely sparkles Hew,
As for the steed he shaped the bending shoe."
--_Gay's Trivia_.

"'Be who thou wilt... thou art in no danger from me, so
then tell me the meaning of this practice, and why thou drivest
thy trade in this mysterious fashion----'

"'Your horse is shod, and your farrier paid--what need you
cumber yourself further, than to mount and pursue your
journey?'"

--_Kenilworth_.

ON the afternoon of the day after Lawless's wine-party Oaklands and I
were walking down to the stables where his horses were kept (he having,
in pursuance of his plan for preventing my over-reading myself, beguiled
me into a promise to ride with him), when we encountered Archer.

"I suppose you have heard the news _par excellence_," said he, after we
had shaken hands.

"No," replied I, "what may it happen to be?"

"Only that Lizzie Maurice, the pastry-cook's daughter, disappeared last
night, and old Maurice is going about like a distracted creature this
morning, and can't learn any tidings of her."

"What, that pretty