; tears of misery wiped away--
tears of joy still flowing and glistening with the radiance of
intermingled smiles.

The next morning McShane and O'Donahue arrived, the Secretary of State
had given immediate orders for our hero's release, and they had brought
the document with them.

The following day they were all _en route_, Emma and her uncle to
Portsmouth, where they anxiously awaited the arrival of our hero as soon
as he had performed his duty to his parents.

We must allow the reader to suppose the joy of Mrs Austin in once more
holding her child in her embrace, and the smiles and happiness of Mary
at his triumphant acquittal; the wondering of the domestics, the scandal
and rumour of the neighbourhood. Three days sufficed to make all known,
and by that time Joey was looked upon as the hero of a novel. On the
fourth day he accompanied the remains of his father as chief mourner.
The funeral was quiet without being mean; there was no attendance, no
carriages of the neighbouring gentry followed. Our hero was quite alone
and unsupported; but when the ceremony was over, the want of respect
shown to the memory of his father was more than atoned for by the
kindness and consideration shown towards the son, who was warmly, yet
delicately, welcomed as the future proprietor of the Hall.

Three months passed away, and there was a great crowd before the house
of Mr Small, navy agent at Portsmouth. There was a large company
assembled, the O'Donahues, the McShanes, the Spikemans, and many others.
Mrs Austin was there, looking ten years younger; and Mary was
attending her at the toilet, both of them half smiles, half tears, for
it was the morning of our hero's wedding-day. Mr Small strutted about
in white smalls, and Mr Sleek spluttered over everybody. The
procession went to the church, and soon after the ceremony, one couple
of the party set off for the Hall; where the others went is of no
consequence.

We have now wound up the history of little Joey Rushbrook, the poacher.
We have only to add, that the character of our hero was not the worse as
he grew older, and was the father of a family. The Hall was celebrated
for hospitality, for the amiability of its possessors, and the art which
they possessed of making other people happy. Mary remained with them
more as a confidante than as a servant; indeed, she had so much money,
that she received several offers of marriage, which she invariably
refused, observing, with th