ous goodly sights spread out in long array for the approaching festival. The first of these horsemen was no less a person than Alderman Henry Keble, and his companion the doughty Chevalier Sir Michael de la Pole. "Then thou wilt not break faith with me," quoth the Spanish knight, as they entered Gracechurch Street, "in this matter, to me of such great import ?"

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Surely not," returned the alderman. "I swear to thee by Fitz-Aldwine's beard that I will fulfil the compact."

"But," continued Michael, "how seemeth the lady, the fair Mistress Alice ? Dost think we may be certain of her consent to the measure ?"

"Certes," replied the alderman.

"Tell me," the Spanish knight went on, "did she much favour this Ambrose Quartermain ?"

"No, not a whit," quoth the alderman. "He hath a comely visage, and soft, beguiling tongue."

to pass, but it was arranged that, if he could, within the space of two years, acquire a fortune in some way equal to that of Wansted, with the honour of knighthood, his claim should hold good; yet if he failed, he relinquished all claims."

"And was fair Alice present?"

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Surely not," quoth the alderman. "And the period-when will it expire ?" "In two months from this day." "And Master Quartermain-what said he to the task imposed ?"

"Proud he looked, yet full of buoyant hope, saying he knew that no dower, were it ever so costly, might be compared to Mistress Keble; that her hand should be his guiding star, the goal of his ambition, and that he doubted not at success."

In silence they pursued their way; not a word passed between them during the remaining portion of their journey; each seemed occupied with his own imaginings, and neither spoke. On they pressed, heedless

"And, perchance by craft and subtlety, he may have won upon her gentle and guileless nature."

The alderman was at a loss for a reply, so he said "Pshaw" again, and touched his charger with the spur.

"Didst thou ever promise her hand to Master Quartermain ?" the knight inquired. "No," returned Keble. "I promised the hand of my child to the heir of the wide domains of Wansted, and he hath forfeited the pledge."

"Then he hath now no title or claim ?" pursued Michael.

"Not by the pledge he then obtained." "What mean you by the pledge he then obtained? Surely you have given him no

the rich hangings from the windows, the building of the scaffolds, canopies and pavilions, and the rearing of the lofty Maypoles.

Thus they passed along, until they at length arrived at the mansion in the Cheap. Here they halted and dismounted; groups of servitors stood round, clad in gay liveries, and the bright and cheerful flood of lights came pouring forth from every window. For that night a vast company were entertained within the mansion.

'Twas midnight, and on the roof of the White Tower a company of the garrison had assembled. They were fully armed, and each bore a lighted cresset, which cast around a dull red light, exhibiting the figures of the steel-clad warriors and all the cannon arranged round the battlements. The lieutenant, his deputy, the master-gunner and his men were there, yet they seemed as though they did not enjoy the prospect or situation, the latter being peculiarly bleak from its exalted position, and the former a dull, dark mass of building that formed the ancient city.

The lieutenant paused in his march across

the battlements, and gazed forth upon the tranquil city. All sound was hushed; the hum of many voices had now ceased all around. The river, the heavens, the city, were all enveloped in impenetrable gloom, save a slender streak of light where the sun had long gone down.

As the lieutenant still gazed, a dull red light appeared in what might be considered the centre of the city; brighter and more bright it grew, and played and flickered still, until at length the tall and beautiful fabric of St. Paul stood forth in the ruddy glare; yet still the lieutenant gazed; then turning for an instant, he asked if the guns were ready.

At that instant the loud ringing of some distant alarm-bell broke upon the ear. It was a dismal sound to break forth on the stillness of night, and the light grew still more bright, and the busy sound of many voices arose from the ancient city; and then another bell struck forth-another, and another.

"Fire!" cried the lieutenant; a loud and terrible report succeeded, and a sheet of flame rushed forth; then lights were seen to gleam through the street, and appear upon the sky, and the volley of small guns was heard re-echoing from every side, and bell began to answer bell in every direction, until the echoes blended together, or were mingled with the various sounds that now

arose.

The beating of drums was heard, the clattering boots, and screams, and cries; and lights shone upon the river's brink, and the craft moored alongside stood forth in the strange illumination.

Again the word to fire was given, and again the terrible report succeeded that seemed to stir the ancient fortress to its very foundation. The lights were now seen advancing eastward; onward they came, onward still, then halted; a terrible din ensued, the loud shouts of some vast multitude, the clash of arms and doleful ringing of the

bells.

"Level the guns towards the city!" shouted the lieutenant. "If need should be, discharge them!" Scarce had he uttered

Whether the citizens were unwilling or unable to restrain their 'prentices is uncertain; but certain it is that near the hour of midnight, on the eve of May-day, a multitude, consisting of about a thousand men, well armed and equipped, assembled in the enclosure around St. Paul's. Mounted on stately horses appeared John Lincoln and Nick Sherring, surrounded by the concourse --a wild and dangerous throng, bent on mischief. Perchance, if they had gazed upwards, they might have noticed a glimmering light high up in the belfry; but the ruddy glare from the torches beneath prevented its being noticed.

"Think you these loiterers will arrive?" quoth Lincoln.

"I doubt it not," Sherring answered. "All are anxious to liberate their fellows." Two long lines of dark figures were seen approaching.

"Who is yon solemn gentleman? Surely 'tis not Dr. Bell ?"

"Goodlack, it is," replied Lincoln; and he rode to the side of the reverend man. "Doctor," quoth he, "what may have induced thee to be present at this meeting ?"

"What induced me, sir ?-the liberty of the subject, the regaining of the franchise. What made the noble Earl of Pembroke

CHAPTER VIII.

AT LOOSE ENDS.

OHN'S days were not all days to be "marked with a white stone," as the last. He had his days of trouble, still. Life isn't all a ramble in the wildwood, even to a boy of ten, rejoicing in his first summer in a country home.

During the past week which they had spent in the city, John had continued at his school, and had brought home with him from day to day his various items of school property. Books of only occasional use, with some story-books that had been lent to his companions, were first collected, and these became included in the packing of his mother's library. His slate and pencils, copy-book, spelling-book, and so forth, were only brought home the very day before the final removal, and went to make up the list of miscellanies that he himself collected and bestowed at the last,-many of them, as we have seen, going to complete the filling of his trunk, and being heedlessly thrown together, at his unpacking, on the floor of his wardrobe.

He had never, as yet, taken the trouble to gather together and arrange all these volumes and articles for future use.

Consequently, when his father said,—as he did two or three times during the period he had spent in the various enterprises and amusements I have been describing, -"Well, Johnnie, we must have a little studying pretty soon. It won't do to forget the lessons altogether. All play and no work makes Jack a mere toy,"-it gave John a feeling of vague discomfort and disrelish, quite apart from any unwillingness to employ in study the small portion of time that would be required.

was.

At last, one morning, the fiat went forth. And, as will often happen, it came, as John thought, exactly at the wrong time.

Howard and Stephen had a famous plan arranged for "fishing" after swallows' eggs; and this morning they were to carry it into execution, and had begged Johnnie to come over and see how their contrivance worked.

The nests were some six feet below the top of the Sellingers' great back-kitchen chimney, which was hardly ever used; and Howard had tied some cotton-wool to the end of a stick, of the necessary length to reach them, and was to wet it with gluten, whereby he hoped a gentle dip into a nest would cause the eggs to adhere, and bring one or more of them safely up. John was very curious to see it done.

But that very morning, as he left the breakfast-table, Mr. Osburn said to him,

"John, this is Monday. You must begin this week with a little steady employment. I don't expect much; but what I do require of you, I shall require strictly. Bring me your 'Greenleaf.'"

John never gave any "glum looks" to his father. He would not have dared. But his face by no means expressed alacrity or willingness as he replied,

"Why, father, I don't know where it is, I'm sure. And I don't believe I've got any slate-pencil."

"I put some of your books, Johnnie, in the little chimney cupboard in my room, when I unpacked the box," said his mother. "If you look there, I dare say you will find

"Well; how far have you 'gone,' John

nie, as the boys say!" asked Mr. Osburn, taking the well-thumbed Arithmetic in his hand. "About thus far, I imagine."

And

Only you might lose more by putting off. than by taking the time now. You can't tell exactly how long the sums may occupy

"I'd got through Reduction," said Johnnie, "and was just going into Addition of Compound Numbers."

"Yes, this is just the place," said his father. "Very well; it is always better, I think, in recommencing any study, or even the reading of a book, to begin a little back of where one left off. It makes a surer join. The new knowledge holds better to the old. That's the way you find it in your seams, don't you, mother ?" he added, playfully, to Mrs. Osburn. "So, Johnnie, if you please, I'll try you with a lesson in Miscellaneous Exercises in Reduction. You may begin with these sums that have the answers attached, so that you may be sure your work is done before you leave it. You can take from No. 39 to the end of the page, can't you, since you have gone over the ground so lately?"

by-and-by. You are not working by the hour, but by the job, remember."

"Oh, yes, I know," replied Johnnie, brightening up into cheerfulness. "I'll do them the first thing after I come back."

And in three minutes more he was in Mr. Sellinger's yard.

His mother took up the "Greenleaf" from the breakfast-table, and carried it upstairs to her room. Her look was a little doubtful and foreboding. She had some reason to fear that the hardest part of the "job" that day might be her own.

Half an hour later, over in Mr. Sellinger's yard, the boys were just at the critical and exciting point of their extraordinary undertaking.

A ladder had been raised to the top of the kitchen porch, and rested against the eaves of the building. A man had climbed, by this, to the roof, and was cautiously drawing up after him a second and shorter ladder, which Howard, standing on the flat roof

"Your mother will give you a sheet of paper and a pencil; and, as you finish the working of each sum upon your slate, you may copy it carefully upon the paper, and have them all in readiness to show to me when I come home."

"I advise you, Johnnie," said Mrs. Osburn, "to go right to your room, and set resolutely about it."

"Can I go over to Stephen Sellinger's, just a little while, first? He wanted me to come this morning, to help him get some swallows' eggs."

"You may do as you think best," said Mr. Osburn. "I should advise you, as your mother says, to go right up-stairs and attend to your work first; and then play with an easy mind afterwards."

cond ladder had lost a rung at one end, which made it all the more convenient for their purpose. The man, after he had safely drawn it up, rested it against the sloping roof, with the two ends in the gutter, and climbed, himself, cautiously to the ridgepole; where he once more drew the ladder after him, and placed it, now, against the chimney; the length of the two sides, beyond the lowest remaining rung, which rested across the ridge-pole, allowing it to be planted firmly upon the shingles.

When he had fixed it thus, as securely as he could, the man seated himself astride upon the apex of the roof, between the ladder and the chimney, grasping the former firmly, with both his hands.

"Now, my man!" he called out to Howard, who was standing at the top of the first ladder, with his long stick in his hand.

John and Stephen had clambered up the grape-vine trellis to the roof of the porch; and Stephen stood already,---like many an older aspirant,--with feet upon the lower