obedience or respect from the wretches trampled down in its iron course. Edward should not, at all events, depart foodless on his morning's errand; neither should her boy lack breakfast. On this she was now determined, and with shaking hands and flushed cheek, she hastily set about preparing the bird for the morning meal--a weak and criminal act, if you will; but a mother seldom reasons when her child lacks food: she only feels. Edward Lovegrove very easily reconciled himself to the savory breakfast which awaited him in the morning; and he and his son were doing ample justice to it--the wife, though faint with hunger, could not touch a morsel--when the latch of the door suddenly lifted, and in hurried Thompson the miller, and chief constable of the Hundred, followed by an assistant. A faint scream escaped from Mrs. Lovegrove, and a fierce oath broke from her husband's lips, as they recognized the new-comers, and too readily divined their errand. "A charming breakfast, upon my word!" exclaimed the constable, laughing. "Roasted pheasant--no less! Our information was quite correct, it appears." "What is the meaning of this, and what do you seek here?" exclaimed Edward Lovegrove. "You and this game, of which we are informed you are unlawfully possessed. I hope," added the constable, a feeling, good sort of man--"I hope you will be able to prove both this half-eaten pheasant and the hare I see hanging yonder were presented to you by some person having a right to make such gifts?" A painful and embarrassing pause ensued. It would have been useless, as far as themselves were concerned, to have named Charity Symons, even had Lovegrove or his wife been disposed to subject him to the penalties of the law and the anger of his employer. "After all," observed the constable, who saw how matters stood, "it is but a money penalty." "A money penalty!" exclaimed Lovegrove. "It is imprisonment--ruin--starvation for my wife and child. Look at these bare walls--these threadbare garments--and say if it can mean any thing else!" "I am sorry for it," rejoined Thompson. "The penalty is a considerable one: five pounds for each head of game, with costs; and I am afraid, if Sir John Devereux's agent--lawyer Nichols--presses the charge, in default of payment, six months' imprisonment! Sir John's preserves have suffered greatly of late." "It is that rascal, that robber Nichols' doing then!" fiercely exclaimed Lovegrove. "I might have guessed so; but if I don't pay him off both for old and new one of these days--" "Tut--tut!" interrupted the constable: "it's no use calling names, nor uttering threats we don't mean to perform. Perhaps matters may turn out better than you think. In the mean time you must appear before Squire Digby, and so must your hare and what remains of your breakfast."