T THE DEMON SHIP. By THOMAS HOOD., WAS off the Wash-the sun went down the Still on it came, with horrid roar, a swift pursuing For stormy clouds, with murky fleece, were Toma shades enormous gloom as if the solid Wath Suddenly to seize upon the light! for mariners to bear a wary eye, dak conspiracy between the sea and Down went my helm close reefed the tack held I put about, and scudded for Lond hissed the sea beneath her lea my little But faster still the rushing storm came borne upon Oh what a roaring hurricane beset the straining Sail What furious sleet, with level drift, and fierce What darksome caverns yawned before! what Like battle steeds, with foamy manes, wild tossing in the wind. Each after each sank down astern, exhausted in But where it sank another rose and galloped in its As black as night they turned to white, and cast grave: It seemed as though some cloud had turned its hugeness to a wave! Its briny sleet began to beat beforehand in my face I felt the rearward keel begin to climb its swelling base! I saw its alpine hoary head impending over mine! Another pulse-and down it rushed-an avalanche of brine! Brief pause had I, aloud to cry, or think of wife and home; The waters closed-and when I shrieked, I shrieked below the foam! Beyond that rush I have no hint of any after My eyes drank in a doubtful light, my ears a doubtful sound Where am I?-in the breathing world, or in the world of death?" And was that ship a real ship whose tackle seemed With sharp and sudden pang I drew another birth of breath; around? A snowy sheet, as if each surge upturned a sailor's A face, that mocked the human face, before me shrond: A moon, as if the earthly moon, was shining up aloft; But were those beams the very beams that I had seen so oft! Still flew my boat; alas! alas! her course was Behold yon fatal billow rise- ten billows heaped With fearful speed the dreary mass came rolling, As if the scooping sea contained one only wave watched alone; that looked Oh, never may the moon again disclose me such a As met my gaze, when first I looked, on that I've seen a thousand horrid shapes begot of fierce extremes : J TWO ADVENTURES. From The Small House at Allington" By ASTEST TROLLOPE) OHN EAMES, with a little hesitation, walked down the garden. First of all he went the whole way round the walks meeting nobody. Then he crossed the lawn, returning again to the farther end; and there, emerging from the little path which led from the Great House, he encountered Lily alone. “Oh, John,” she said, how d'ye do! I'm afraid you did not find anybody in the house. Mamma and Bell are with Hopkins, away in the large kitchen-garden." I've just colle over," said Eames, because I promised. I said I'd come before I went back to London" “And they be very glad to see you, and so am I. Shall we go after them into the other grounds? But perhaps you walked over and are tired.” -I did walk,” said Eames; "not that I am very tired But in truth he did not wish to go after Mrs. Dale, though he was altogether at a loss as to what to say to Lily while remaining with her. He had fancied that he would like to have some opportunity of speaking to her alone before he went away :—of making some special use of the last interview which he should have with her before she became a married woman. But now the opportunity was there, and he hardly dared to avail himself of it. "You'll stay and dine with us," said Lily. “No, I'll not do that, for I especially told my mother that I would be back.” I'm sure it was very good of you to walk so far to see us. If you really are not tired, I think we will go to mamma, she would be very sorry to miss you." This she said remembering at the moment what had been Crosbie's injunctions to her about John Eames But John had resolved that he would say those words which he had come to speak, and that, as Lily was there with him, he would avail himself of the chance which fortune had given him. “I don't think I'll go into the squire's garden," he said Uncle Christopher is not there. He is about the farm somewhere." “If you don't mind, Lily, I think I'll stay out here. I suppose they il be back soon. Of course I should like to see them before I go away to London But, Lily, I came over now chiefly to see you. It was you who asked me to promise.” Had Crosbie been right in those remarks of his ? Had she been imprudent in her little endeavour to be cordially kind to her old friend! Shall we go into the drawing-room!" she said, feeling that she would be in some degree safer there than out among the shrubs and paths of the garden. And I think she was right in this. A man will talk of love out among the lilacs and roses, who would be stricken dumb by the demure propriety of the four walls of a drawing-room. John Eames also had some feeling of this kind. for he determined to remain out in the garden if he could so manage it. “I don't want to go in, unless you wish it," he said. Indeed, I'd rather stay out here. So, Lily, you're going to be married?" And thus he rushed at once into the middle of his discourse. "Yes," she said, “ I believe I am.” “I have not told you yet that I congratulated you." "I have known very well that you did so in your heart. I have always been sure that you wished me well.” "Indeed I have. And if congratulating a person is hoping that she may always be happy, I do congratulate you, But, Lily-—” And then he paused, abashed by the beauty, purity, and woman's grace which had forced him to love her. "I think I understand all that you would say. I do not want ordinary words to tell me that I am to count you among my best friends." "No, Lily, you don't understand all that I would say. You have never known how often and how much I have thought of you; how dearly I have loved you.” “John, you must not talk of that now.” "You must not speak of Mr. Crosbie in that way," she said, turning upon him almost fiercely. "I did not mean to say anything disrespectful of him to you. I should hate myself if I were to do so. Of course you like him better than anybody else?" "I love him better than all the world besides." "And so do I love you better than all the world besides." And as he spoke he got up from his seat and stood before her. "I know how poor I am, and unworthy of you; and only that you are engaged to him, I don't suppose that I should now tell you. Of course you couldn't accept such a one as me. But I have loved you ever since you remember; and now that you are going to be his wife, I cannot but tell you that it is so. You will go and live in London; but as to my seeing you there, it will be impossible. I could not go into that man's house." "Oh, John." I been dissatisfied; but now that Eames was gone her heart became very tender towards him. She felt that she did love him also ;-not at all as she loved Crosbie, but still with a love that was tender, soft, and true. If Crosbie could have known all her thoughts at that moment, I doubt whether he would have liked them. She burst into tears, and then hurried away into some nook where she could not be seen by her mother and Bell on their return. Eames went on his way, walking very quietly, swinging his stick and kicking through the dust, with his heart full of the scene which had just passed. He was angry with himself, thinking that he had played his part badly, accusing himself in that he had been rough to her, and selfish in the expression of his love; and he was angry with her because she had declared to him that she loved Crosbie better than all the world besides. He knew that of course she must do so-that at any rate it was to be expected that such was the case. Yet, he thought she might have refrained from saying so to him. "She chooses to scorn me now," he said to himself; "but the time may come when she will wish that she had scorned him." That Crosbie was wicked, bad, and selfish he believed most fully. He felt sure that the man would ill-use her and make her wretched. He had some slight doubt whether he would marry her, and from this doubt he endeavoured 'No, never! not if you became his wife. have loved you as well as he does. When Mrs, Dale told me of it, I thought I should have fallen. I went away without seeing you because I was unable to speak to you. I made a fool of myself, and have been a fool all along. I am foolish now to tell you this, but I cannot help it.' "You will forget it all when you meet some to draw a scrap of comfort. If Crosbie would girl that you can really love." "And have I not really loved you? Well, never mind. I have said what I came to say, and I will now go. If it ever happens that we are down in the country together, perhaps I may see you again; but never in London. Good-bye, Lily.' And he put out his hand to her. "And won't you stay for mamma?" she said. "No. Give her my love, and to Bell. They understand all about it. They will know why I have gone. If ever you want anybody to do anything for you, remember that I will do it whatever it is." And as he paced away from her across the lawn, the special deed in her favour to which his mind was turned-that one thing which he most longed to do on her behalf-was an act of corporal chastisement upon Crosbie. If Crosbie would but ill-treat her-ill-treat her with some antinuptial barbarity-and if only he could be called in to avenge her wrongs! And as he made his way back along the road towards Guestwick, he built up within his own bosom a castle in the air, for her part in which Lily Dale would by no means have thanked him. Lily, when she was left alone, burst into tears. She had certainly said very little to encourage her forlorn suitor, and had so borne herself during the interview that even Crosbie could hardly have desert her, and if to him might be accorded the privilege of beating the man to death with his fists because of this desertion, then the world would not be quite blank for him. In all this he was no doubt very cruel to Lily; but then had not Lily been very cruel to him? He was still thinking of these things when he came to the first of the Guestwick pastures. The boundary of the earl's property was very plainly marked, for with it commenced also the shady elms along the roadside, and the broad green margin of turf, grateful equally to those who walked and to those who rode. Eames had got himself on to the grass, but in the fulness of his thoughts was unconscious of the change in his path, when he was startled by a voice in the next field and the loud bellowing of a bull. Lord de Guest's choice cattle he knew were there, and there was one special bull which was esteemed by his lordship as of great value, and regarded as a high favourite. The people about the place declared that the beast was vicious, but Lord de Guest had often been heard to boast that it was never vicious with him. "The boys tease him, and the men are almost worse than the boys," said the earl; "but he'll never hurt anyone that has not hurt him." Guided by faith in his own teaching, the earl had taught himself to look upon the bull as a large, horned, innocent lamb of the at his owner, as though determined in each run to flock. As Eames paused on the road, he fancied that he recognised the earl's voice, and it was the voice of one in distress. Then the bull's roar sounded have a toss at his lordship; and at each run the earl would retreat quickly for a few paces, but he retreated always facing his enemy, and as the animal got near to him, would make digs at his very plain in his ear, and almost close; upon hearing which he rushed on to the gate, and, without much thinking what he was doing, vaulted over it, and advanced a few steps into the field. "Halloa!" shouted the earl. "There's a man. Come on." And then his continued shoutings hardly formed themselves into intelligible words; but Eames plainly understood that he was invoking assistance under great pressure and stress of circumstances. The bull was making short runs face with the long spud which he carried in his hand. But in thus making good his retreat he had been unable to keep in a direct line to the gate, and there seemed to be great danger lest the bull should succeed in pressing him up against the hedge. "Come on!" shouted the earl, who was fighting his battle manfully, but was by no means anxious to carry off all the laurels of the victory himself. "Come on, I say!" Then he stopped in his path, shouted into the bull's face, brandished |