LOVE AND MONEY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXI, Issue 7080, 26 July 1884, Page 3 (Supplement)

LOVE AND MONEY.

BY CHARLES BEADS, «Tfi Htm Too' lAta to iltnd," Griffith * EUloro, Cub." tu.

CHAPTER XXV. bbtbibutkmt. ' lrnvrcrov, daring his long imprisonment at „ ' came under many chaplaina, and copaliT with them mil; because when into the state of hia soul he rtcrcsented itas humble, penitent, and pun«i Two of these gentlemen were High Srch, wd be noticed their peculiarities: u certain half-musical monotony in on ® which might be called by a severe '*** gone. Perhaps they thought the th | gerv ice in a cathedral could with advantage to oonverto be strictly in character, this s nniMDOt only dressed High Church, but person** musical monotony into the threw . t; o n he made to Colonel Clifford, communic" Nftp|n thi>, his t \ nf sneaking, with the matter of his method ol P fae BeM j]j o 0 f B lingular discount, «»»?%. firgt introduction, Monokton verr cently that he had a communis in !>n to make on the part of a lady, which Sinful to him, and would be painful to Z*?„£l Clifford; but, at all events, it was and, if the Colonel thought pr ?« I I think?sirfyou have a son whose name " "lhave a son, and his name is Walter," jaid the Colonel, stiffly. "I think, sir," said musical Monckton, •■that he left your house about fourteen years ago, and you lost sight of him for a &*!» " That is so, sir." . " He entered the service of a Mr. Sobers hartley as a merchant's clerk." "I doubt that, sir." •' I fear, sir," sighed Monokton, musically, i< thai that is not the only thing he did which has been withheld from you. He married a lady culled Lucy Muller.' •' Who told you that ? cried the Colonel. "IVaalie." "I am afraid not, said the meek ana lur.efnl ecclesiastic. "I am acquainted with the lady, a most respectable person, and she has shown me the certificate of marriage." "The certificate of marriage," cried the Colonel, all aghast. •I Yes, sir; and this is not the first time I have given this information in confidence. Mrs. Walter Clifford, who is a kind-hearted woman, and has long ceased to suffer bitterly from her husband's desertion, requested me to warn a youDg lady whose namo was Miss >°ary Bartley of this fact. I did so, and showed her the certificate; she was very much distressed, and no wonder, for she was reported to be engaged to Mr. Walter Clifford; but I explained to Mias Bartley that there was nc -jealousy, hostility, _ or bitterness in the matter: the only object was to save her from being betrayed into an ' illegal act, and one that would bring ruin upon herself, and a severe penalty upon Mr. Walter Clifford." , , Colonel Clifford turned very pale, but he merely said, in a hoarse voice, *' Go on, sir." "Well, sir," said Monckton, "I thought the matter was at an end, and, having discharged a commission which was very unpleataut to me, 1 had at all events saved an innocent girl from tempting Mr. Walter Clifford to his destruction and ruining herself. I say, 1 thought and hoped so. But it seems now that the young l*ay hss defied the warning, and has married your son after all. Mrs. Walter Clifford has heard of it in Derby, and she is naturally surprised, and 1 am afraid she is now somewhat incensed." "Before we go any further, sir," said Colonel Clifford, "I should like to'see the certificate you say you showed to Miss Bartley." " I did, sir," said Monckton, " and here it is—that is to say, an attested copy, but of conne sooner or later you will examine the original." Colonel Clifford took the paper with a firm band, and examined it very closely. " Have yon any objection ttfmy taking a copy of this," eaid be, teenly. "Of course not," said Monckton; "indeed I don't see why I should not leave this documeat with you ; it will be in honourable hands." The Colonel bowed. Then he examined the document. " I see, sir," said he, " the witness is William Hope. May J ask if you know this William Hope?" "I was not present at the wedding, sir," Eaid Monckton, "so I can say nothing about the matter from my own knowledge ; but if yon please I will ask the lady." " Why didn't she come herself instead of tending you?" asked the Colonel, distrustfully. "That's just what I asked her.. And she said she had not the heart nor the courage to come herself. I believe she thought as 1 was a clergyman, and not directly interested. I might be more calm than she could be ; and giro a little less pain." " That's all stuff If she is afraid to come herself she knows it's an abominable falsehood. Bring her here with whatever evidence she has got that this Walter my son ; and then ws will go into this matter seriously." Monckton was equal to the occasion. "You are quite right, sir, "said he. "And tohat business has ah* to put me forward as evidence of a transaction I never witnessed ? I shall tell her yoa expect to see her, and that it is her duty to clear up the affair in person. Suppose it abould bis another Mr. Walter Clifford, after aIL When shall I I ring her, supposing I have sufficient influence?" "Bring her to-morrow, as early aa you can." fl "Well,'you know ladies are not early tilers; will twelve o'clock do 7" " Twelve o'clock to-morrow, sir," said the Colonel. The sham parson took his leave, and drove sway in a well-appointed carriage and pair. For we must inform the reader that he had written to Mr. Middleton for another £100, nst much expeoting to get it, and that it had come down by return of post in a draft on a bak in Derby. Stout Colonel Clifford was now a very unhappy man. The soul of honour , himself, he could not fully believe that his own son had been guilty of perfidy and crime. But how could hs escape doubts, and very grave donbts, too The communication was made by a gentlemen who did not Hem really to know more about" it than he had been told, but then he was a clergyman, with no appearance of heat or partiality. He had been easily convinced that the lady herself ought to have come and said more about it, and had left an attested copy in his (Colonel Clifford's) hands, with, a simplicity that looked like one gentleman dealing with another. One thing, however, puzzled him sore ia this certificate—the witness being William Hope. William Hope was not a very uncommon name, but still somehow that one and the same document should contain the names of Walter Clifford and William Hope roused a suspicion in his mind that witness was the William Hope lying in bis own house so weak and ill, that he did not like to go to him, and enter upon such a terrible discussion u this. He sent for Mrs. Milton, and asked her if Mia, Walter Clifford was quite recovered. Mrs. Milton reported ahe waa quite well and reading to her father. The Colonel went opitairs and beckoned her out. " My child,"said he, "I am sorry to renew u agitating subject, but you are a good girl, sod a brave girl, and you mean to oonfide in me sooner or later. Can you pity the agitation and distress of » father, who for the first time is compelled to doubt hia son's honour?" "I can, "said Grace. " Ah, something has happened since we parted; somebody baa to.d you. That man with a certificate?" "What, then," said the Colonel, "iait folly true ? Did be really show you that Certificate?" He did" warned you not to marry Walter ?" He did, and told me Walter would be pot into prison if I- did, and would - die in Pnion, for a gentleman could not live' there nowadays. Oh, sir, don't let anybody snow but you and me and my father. He won t hurt him for my sake; be has wronged ®e cruelly, but 111 be tarn to pieoea before marriage, and throw him Into a " Co ®2 to my arma, yon pearl of goodness, unselfish Jove," cried with 0 Clifford. " How can I ever part Jwl K"- th * t I- know you t There. - * let lis despair, let's fight to ths last. I of tk* N*w Zuun Hmu tot Vu

have one question to submit to you. tifcoune, yon the oertificate vsry carefully.' "I saw enough to break my heart. I»* that on a certain day, many yean ho, one Lnoy Moller had married Walter Clinbrd. " And who wits eased the marriage 7" asked the Colonel, eyeing her keenly. "Oh, I don't know that," laid Grace. " When I came to Walter Clifford, everything awam before my eyes; it wasall I could do to keep from fainting away. I tottered into my father 1 * study, and, aa coma as I came to myself,'what had Ito do? Woh, to creep out again with my broken and face such ins alts—ah 1 it ia a wonder I did not fall dead at their feet." . . "My poor girl," said Colonel Clifford. Then he reflected a moment. "Have yon the courage to read that document again and to observe in particular who witnessed it l" | " I hare," said she. I He handed it to her. She took it and held ! it in both hands, thongh they " Who is the witness f * "The witness," said Grace, "is William Hope." . " Is that your father ?" " It's my father's name," said Graoe, beginning to torn her eyes inwards and think very hard. " Bat is it your father, do yon think." "No, sir, it is not." " Was be in that part of the world at the time ? Did he know Bartley 1 The clergy* m»n who brought me this certificate—" " The clergyman ?" " Yes, my dear, it was a clergyman, apparently a rector, and he told me—" " Axe yon sure he was a clergyman i" ■ " Qaite sore ; he had a white tie, a broad* brimmed hat—a clergyman all over; don't go off on that. Did your father and my son know each other in Hull T" "That they did. Yon are right," said Grace. " This witness was my father ; see that now. Bat if so— Don't speak to me don't touch me; let me think—there is some* thing hidden hereand Mrs. Walter Clifford showed her father-in-law that which we have seen in her more than once; bat it was qaite new and surprising to Colonel Clifford. There she stood, her arms folded, her eyes turned inward ; her every feature, and even her body seemed to think. The result cane out like lightning front a cloud. " Ifs all a falsehood," said she. " A falsehood ?" said Colonel Clifford. "Yes, a falsehood upon the face of it; my father witnesssed this marriage, and, therefore, if the bridegroom had been oar Walter, he would never have allowed oar Walter to court me, for he knew of our courtship all j along, and never once disapproved of it." "Then do yon think it is a mistake}" said the Colonel; eagerly. " No, Ido not," said Grace. " I think it is an imposture. This man was not a clergyman when he brought me the certificate ; he was a man of business, a plain a of the world ; he had a coloured necktie, and some rather tawdry chains." " Did he speak in a kind of sing-song I" " Mot at all; hi* voice was olear and cutting, only he softened it down onoe or twice, ont of what I took for good feeling at I the tine. He's an impostor and a villain. Dear sir, don't agitate poor Walter, nor my I dear father, with this vile thing." She handed him back the certificate. "It has been a knife to both our hearts ; wa have suffered together, yon and I, and let us get at the bottom of it together." " We shall aoon do that," said the Colonel, " for he is coming here to-morrow again." " All the better." " With the lady." "What lady?" "The lady that calls herself Mrs. . Walter Clifford." " Indeed," said Grace, taken quite aback. " They must be very bold." " Ob, for that matter," said the Colonel, "I insisted upon it; the man seemed to know nothing bnt from ifiere hearsay. Ho knew nothing abont William Hope, the witness, so I told him he must bring the woman; and, to be just to the man, he seemed to think so too, and that she ought to do her own business." " She will not come," said Grace, lather contemptuonsly. He was obliged to say she would, just to pnt a face upon it To-morrow hell bring an excuse instead of her. Then have your detectives about, for he is a villian, and, dear sir, please receive him in the drawing-room, then I will find some way to get a sight of him myself." "It shall be done," said the Colonel. "I begin to think with yon. At all events, if the lady does not come, I shall hope it is all an imposture or a mistake." With this understanding they parted, and waited in anxiety for the morrow, but now their anxiety was chequered with hope. To-morrow bade fair to be a busy day. Colonel Clifford, little dreaming the condition to which his son and his guest would be reduced, hsd Invited Jem Da vies and the rescuing parties to feast in tents on his own lawn, and to drink his home-brewed beer, and they were to bring with them snoh of the rescued miners as might 'be in a condition to feast and drink copiously. Whan he found that neither Hope nor his son could join the festivities, he was very sorry be had named so early a day ; bat he was so punctilious and precise that he could not make up his mind to change one day for another. So a great confectioner at Derby, who sent out feasts, was charged with the affair, and the Colonel's own kitchen was at his service too. That was not all. Bartley was coming to do business. This had been preceded by a. letter which Colonel Clifford, it may be remembered, bad offered to show Grace Clifford. The letter was thus worded :— " Colonel Clifford,— " A penitent man begs humbly to approach yon, and offer what compensation ia in his I power. I desire to pay immediately to Walter Clifford the sum of £20,000 I have so long robbed him of, with five per oent. interest for the nse of it. It has brought me far more than that in money, bnt money I now find is not happiness. "The mine in which my friend has so nearly been destroyed, and daughter, who now, too late, I find is the only creature in the world I love—that mine is now odious tb me. I desire by deed to hand it over to Hope and npon condition that you follow the seams wherever they go, and that yon give me such a share of the profits daring my lifetime as yon think I deserve for my enterprise. This for my life only, since I shall leave all I have in the world to that dear child, who will now be your daughter, and perhaps never deign again to look npon the erring man who writes these lines. "I should like, if you please, to retain the farm,or at all events a hundred acres round about the house to torn into orchards and gardens, so that I may have some employ* ment, far from trade and its temptations, for the remainder of my days." In consequence of this letter a deed was drawn and engrossed, and Bartley had written to say he would come to Clifford Hall and sign it, and have it witnessed and de> live red. About nine o'clock in the evening one of the detectives callod on Colonel Clifford to make a private communication; his mate had "spotted" a swell mobsman, rather 'a famous charaoter, with the usual number of aliases, but known to the force as Mark Waddy; he was at the Dan Cow, and possessing the gift of the gab in a superlative degree, had made himself extremely popular. They had both watched him pretty closely, but he seemed not to be there for a job, but only on the " talking lay," probably soliciting information for some gang of thieves or other; he had been seen to exchange a hasty word with a clergyman, but aa Mark Waddy's acquaintances were not amongst the clergy, that would certainly be some pal that was in some thing or other with him. " What a shrewd girl that must be," said the Colonel. "I beg your pardon, Colonel," said the man, not seeing tne relevancy of this observation. "Ob, nothing," said the Colonel, "only I expect a visit to-morrow at twelve o'clock from a donbtfnl clergyman ; just hang about th« lawn on the chance of my giving yon a signal." Thus, while Monokton was moan ting his batteries, his victims were preparing defenoes in a sort of general way, though they did not see their way so clear as the enemy did. Colonel Clifford's drawing-room was a magnificent room, fifty feet long and thirty feet wide. A number of French windows opened on to a noble balcony, with three snort flights of stone steps leading down to the lawn. The oentral steps were broad,the side 'steps narrow. There were four entrances to it—two by double doors, and two by heavily-curtained apertures leading to little subsidiary rooms. At twelve o'clock next day, what with the burst of colour from the petted flowers on the balcony, the white tents, and. the flags and streamers, and a olear, sunshiny day gilding it all, the room looked a " palace of Eleasure," and no stranger peeping in could ave dreamed that it was the abode of care, and abont to be visited by gloomy Penitence and incnrablo Fraud*

.The first to arrive *«' Bartley with m witaeu. He wai received kindly by Colonel Clifford and ushered into a small room. 'i Ho wanted another witness. So John Baker waa sent (or, and Bartley and he were closeted together, reading the deed, &a, when a footman brought in a card—''The Reverend Alleyn Meredith," and written nnderneath with a pencil, in ft female hand, " Mr*. Walter Clifford." "Admit them," aaid the Colonel, firmly. - At this moment Grace, who had heard the carriage drive up to the door, peeped in through one of the heavy curtains wo have mentioned. ... "Has she actually oome?" said the. . "She haa indeed," said the Colonel, lookiag very grave. " Will yon atay and reoeive her?" . "Oh, no," aaid Grace, horrified; "but I'll take a good look at her through this curtain. I have made a little hoto on purpose." Then she slipped into the little room and drew the curtainThe gerr&nt opt&od the door y ud the false rector walked in, supporting on his arm a dark woman, still very beautiful; very plainly, bat well dressed ; agitated, yet sellpOMftifrrt, "Be aeated, madam," said the Colonel. After a reasonable paose he began to question her. " You were married on the eleventh day of Jane, 1868, to a gentleman of the namb of Walter Clifford!" " I was, sir." ••May I ask how long yoa bred with him?" The lady buried her faee in hor hands. The question took her by surprise, and this was a woman's artifice to gain tune, and answer cleverly. Bat the ingenious Monkton gsve it a happy torn. " Poor thing 1 Poor thing 1" said he. "He left me the next day," said Laoy, " and I have never seen him since." Here Monckton interposed; he fancied he had seen the curtain move. "Excuse me," said he, "I think there is somebody listening I" and he went swiftly and put his headthrough the curtain. Bat the room was empty ; for meantime Grace was so surprised by the lady's arrival, by her beauty, which might well have tempted any man, and by her air of respectability, that she changed her tactics directly, and she was gone to her father for advice and information in spite of her previous determination not to worry him in his present condition. What he (aid to her can be briefly told elsewhere; what he ordered her to do was to return and watch the man and not the woman. Daring Lucy's hesitation, which was somewhat long, a clergyman came to the window, looked in and promptly retired, seeing the Colonel had company. This, however, was only a modest curate, alias a detective. He saw in half a moment that this must be Mark Waddy's pal, bat as the polioe like to go their own way he would not watch the lawn himself, but ask Jem Davies, with whom he had made acquaintance, to keep an eye upon that with his fellows, for there was a gaol bird in the house. Then he went ronnd to the front door, by which he felt sure bis bird wonld make his exit. He had no earthly right to capture this ecclesiastic, but he was prepared if the Colonel, who was a magistrate, gave Mm the order, and not without. Bat we are interrupting Colonel Clifford's interrogatories. , . "Madam, what makes yoa think this disloyal person was my son ?" "Indeed, sir, I don't know, "said the lady, and looking around the room with some signs of distress. " I begin to hope it was not I your son. He was a tall young man, almost as tall as yourself. He was very handsome, with brown hair and brown eyes, and seemed incapable of deceit." " Have yoa any letters of hit," askod the OoloneL " I have a great many, sir," said she, " but I have not kept them all." " Have you one ?" taid the Colonel, sternly. "Oh, yes, sir," said Luoy, "I think I matt have nearly twenty; bat what good will they be," said she, affecting simplicity. " Why, my dear madam," said Monckton, " Qolonel Clifford is quite right; the handwriting may not tell yoa anything, but surely his own father knows it. I think he is offering you a very fair test. I m(ist tell you plainly that if you don't produce' the letters yon say yoa possess, I shall regret having put myself forward in this matter at aIL" " Gently, sir," said the Colonel; ".she has not refuted to produce them." Xincy put her hand in her pocket and drew out a packet of letters, bat she hesitated, and looked timidly at Monckton, after his late severity. "Ami bound to part with them?" "Certainly not," said Monckton, "but you surely trust them for a minute, to sach a man as Colonel Clifford. lam of opinion," said be, that since yoa cannot be confronted by this gentleman a son (thongh that is no fault of yours), these letters, (by-the-by, it would have been as well to show to me) ought now at once to be submitted to Colonel Clifford, that he may examine both the contents and the handwriting; then he will know whether it is his son or not, and probably as yoa are fair with him, he will be fair with yoa and tell yoa the truth." Colonel Clifford took the letters and ran his eye hastily over two or three ; they were filled with the ardent protestations of yoath, and a love that evidently looked towards matrimony, and they were written and signed in a handwriting he knew as well as his own. He said, solemnly, "These letters are written and were sent to Miss Lucy Muller by my son, Waiter Clifford." Then, almost for the first time in bis life, he broke down, and said, " God forgive him : God help him and me. The honour of the Cliffords is an empty sound." liUoy Monckton rose from her chsir in genuine agitation. Her better angel tugged at her heart strings. "Forgive me, sir, oh, forgive me," she eried, bursting into tears. Then she caught a bitter, threatening glanco of her bad angel fixed upon her, and the taid to Monckton, "I can say no more, I can do no more. It was fourteen years ago — I can's break people's hearts. Hush it up amongst yon. 1 have made a hero weep; his tears born me. I don't care for the man ; I'll go no further. Yoa, sir, have taken a great deal of trouble and expense. I dare say Colonel Clifford will compensate you; I leave the matter with you. No power shall make me act in it any more." Monokton wrote hastily on his card, and taid quite calmly, "Well, I really think, madam, yoa.are not fit to take part in a conference like this. Compose yoarself and -retire. X know your mind in the matter, better than yon do yourself at this and I will act accordingly." She retired and drove away to the Dun Cow, whioh was the place Monckton had appointed when he wrote upon tho card. " Colonel Clifford," taid Monckton, "all that is a woman's way. When she is oat of sight of you, and thinks over her desertion and her unfortunate ~ condition— neither maid, wife, nor widow—she will be aßgry with me if I don't obtain her sonA compensation." . "She deserves compensation," said the Colonel, gravely. " Especially if she holds her tongae," said Monckton.'

" Whether she holds her tongue or not, said the Colonel. "I don't see how I can hold mine, and you have already told my daughter-in-law. A separation between her and mv sod is The compensation must be offered,' and pod help me, I'm a magistrate, if only to compound the felony." " Surely," said Monokton, " it oan be put upon a wider footing than that; let me think," and he turned away to the open window. bnt when he got there he saw a lot of miners olustering about. Now he had no fear of their recognizing him, since he had not left a vestige of the printed description. Bnt the very sight of them, and the memory of what they hsd done to his dead acoomplioe, made him shuddsr at them. Henoeforth he kept away from tha window, and turned bis back to it. : "Ithink with you, sir," said he, mellifluonaly, " that "she ought to have a few thousands by way of compensation. You know she could claim alimony, and be a very blister to you and yours. But, on the other hand, I do think, as an impartial person, that she onght to keep this sad secret most faithfully, and even take her maiden name again." : Whilst Monckton was makiog this impartial proposal, Bartley opened the door, and was coming forward with his deed, when he heard a voice he recognised, and partly by that, partly by the fellow's thin lips, he recognised him, and said, " Monokton I That villain here."

"Monckton l"said Colonel Clifford. "That is not hia 1 name. It is Meredith. He is a clergyman." Bartley . examined him very suspiciously, and Monckton, duri-x this examination, looked perfectly calm and innocent. , Meantime, a note was brought to Colonel Clifford from Grace, 1* Pap* was the

witness. He ia quite sure the bridegroom waa not our Walter. He thinks it must have been the other clerk, Leonard Monekton, who robbed Mr. Bartley, and put some of the money into dear Walter's pockets to rain him, bat papa saved him.- Don't let him escape." Colonel Clifford's eye flashed with triumph, but he controlled himself. » " Say I will give it dae attention/' aaid he. " I'm busy now." . And the servant retired. "Now, sir," said he, "Is this ft ease of mistaken identity, or is your name Leonard Monokton ?" "Colonel Clifford," said the hypocrite, aadly, "I little thought that I should be made to suffer for the past, since I came here only on an errand of mercy. Yes, sir, in my unregenerate days I was Leonard Monokton. 1 disgraced the name. Bat I repented, and when I adopted the sacred calling of a clergyman J parted with the past; name and £0. I was that man's clerk, and so," aaid he, spitefully, and forgetting hia aing-song, *' waa your son Walter Clifford. Was .that not so, Mr. Bartley ?" " Don't speak to me, air, ma Bartley. "lahallsay nothing to gratify yon nor to affront Colonel Clifford."

" Speak the troth, sir," said Colonel Clifford ; "never mind the oonseqaencea." "Well, then," said Bartley, very unwillingly, " they were cteriu in my office j and this one robbed me."

" One thing at a time," aaid Monekton. "Did I rob yon of twenty thousand poands as you robbod Mr. Walter Clifford ?" His voice became still more incisive, and the curtain of the little room opened a little and two eyes of fire looked in. "Do yoa remember one fine day your clerk, 'Rulter Clifford, asking yon for leave of absence—to be married ?"

Bartloy turned his bask on bim contemptuously. Bat Colonel Clifford initiated on nis replyiflg. " Yes, fa« did," said Bartley, sullenly. " But," asid the Tsalonel, quietly; "be thought better of it, and so—you married her yoariel/." This bayonet throat wu ao keen and sudden that the villain's aolf-posaeaaion left him tor once. His month opaued in diamay, and his eyes roving to and fro seemed to seek a door to escape. _• Bat there was worse in ato re for him. The curtains were - drawn right and left with power, and there stood Grace Clifford, beautiful, bat pale and terrible. She marched towards him with eyea that rooted him to the spot. And then she stopped. "Now hear me; for he has tortured me, and tried to kill me. Look at his white face turning ghastly .beneath his paint at the i«ight of me; look at his thin lips and his devilish eyebrows, and his restless eyea. This is the man that bribed that wretcb to fire the mine 1" % _ These last words, ringing from her lips like the trumpet of doom, were anawered as swiftly as gunpowder explodes at a lighted torch, by a furious yell, and in a moment the room seemed a forest of wild beasts. A score of raging miners came npon him from every side, dragging, tearing, beating, kicking, cursing, yelling. He was down in a moment, then soon up again, then dragged out of the room, nails, fists, and heavy boots all going, stripped to the shirt, screaming like a woman. A dozen assailants rolled down the steps with him in the midst of them. He got clear for a moment, but twenty more rushed at him, and again he was torn and battered and kicked. " .Police I police I" be cried, and at last the deteotivca who came to aeize him rushed in, and Colonel Clifford, too, with the voice of a stentor cried, " The law ! respect the law, or you are ruined men." And ao at laat the law he had ao dreadod raised what'aeemed a bag of bones. Nothing left on him but one boot, and fragments of a shirt, ghastly, bleeding, covered with bruises, insensible, and to all appearance dead. After a short consultation, they carried htm, by Colonel Clifford's order, to the Dun Cow, where Lacy, it may be remembered, waa awriting his triumphant return, [To be continued.)