r history. The farmer
appeared greatly moved by the recital.

"She resembles my poor Sarah very strongly," he said. "My daughter was
hurried into an early grave by a villain who won her affections and
betrayed her. She now lies in Willesden churchyard, but her seducer is
one of the chief favourites of our profligate monarch."

"Do you mean the Earl of Rochester?" cried Leonard.

"No, no," replied the farmer, whose good-natured countenance had assumed
a stern expression. "The villain I mean is worse, if possible, than the
earl. He is called Sir Paul Parravicin."

"Gracious Heaven!" exclaimed Leonard, in astonishment; "what a strange
coincidence is this!"

And he then proceeded to relate to Wingfield the persecution which Nizza
Macascree had endured from the profligate knight The farmer listened to
his recital with breathless interest, and when it was ended arose, and,
taking a hasty turn round the room, halted at the table and struck it
forcibly with his clenched hand.

"I hope that man will never cross my path," he said, all the blood
mounting to his face, and his eye kindling with fury. "As God shall
judge me, I will kill him if I meet him."

"Then I hope you never will meet him," observed Leonard. "He has injured
you enough already, without putting you out of the pale of Divine
mercy."

"These rascals have done us all an injury," observed Blaize. "Patience
has never been like herself since Major Pillichody entered my master's
dwelling, and made love to her. I feel quite uneasy to think how the
little hussy will go on during my absence. She can't get out of the
house, that's one comfort."

"You have mentioned another wretch, who was constantly with Sir Paul,"
cried Wingfield. "Perdition seize them!"

"Ay, perdition seize them!" echoed Blaize, striking the table in his
turn--"especially Major Pillichody."

"Did you ever suspect Sir Paul to be of higher rank than he pretends?"
asked Leonard.

"No," rejoined Wingfield; "what motive have you for the question?"

Leonard then told him of the inquiries instituted by Doctor Hodges
relative to Nizza's retreat, and how they had been baffled. "It is
strange," he continued, "that Nizza herself never heard the real name of
her persecutor; neither can she tell where the house to which she was
conveyed, when in a fainting condition, and from which she was removed
when attacked with the plague, is situated."

"It is strange indeed," observed the farmer, musingly.