hastened to his son’s apartment to calm his agitation, as he lay weak and helpless on his bed. The thief in the pantry had made good his escape, and in a little while poor Hannah Olliver, who had learnt a lesson which had sobered her gay spirits for life, was liberated and permitted to retire to her little chamber, where she spent the rest of the night in bitter and unavailing tears. Bill Buckley and his comrade were placed in safe keeping previous to their transfer to the county gaol. Black Morris--for the mysterious stranger whose appearance had filled the heart of Buckley with an awful terror, was really Black Morris in the flesh, and not his ghost--was again closeted with the squire, and informed him that the captured burglar was none other than the man who shot him down in Thurston Wood. * * * * * The circumstances of the burglary formed the subject of much conversation and speculation among the inmates of Waverdale Hall; but the interest of these events gave way before the now clear and undoubted fact that Master Philip was, in the completest fashion, demonstrated to be utterly innocent of the attack upon Black Morris which was supposed to have resulted in that errant youth’s untimely death. Calmly and gratefully did Philip receive the information of his perfect freedom from the terrible cloud which had overshadowed him, and simply replied to his glad father’s communication of the fact,-- “Thank God, my father! Thank God! but in my consciousness of a Saviour’s love and yours, that trouble had already lost its sting.” Early on the following morning, Black Morris made his way to Kesterton, and greatly astounded the Rev. Theophilus Clayton by this personal token of his resurrection from the dead. Black Morris requested that the good man would go with him to Midden Harbour, and break the news to his weak and ailing mother, as he feared the consequences of his own sudden appearance before those who believed him to be numbered with the dead. The household of Piggy Morris had just finished breakfast when Mr. Clayton made his appearance and surprised them by a pastoral call at such an unconscionably early hour. Piggy Morris was just lacing his boots previous to going on a huckstering expedition round the neighbouring farms. In the course of conversation, Mr. Clayton made what he thought, a moment after, was an unfortunate reference to Waverdale Hall. It was as a spark upon gunpowder, and Piggy Morris began to denounce Philip as the murderer of his son. “Are you quite sure that he did receive his death-wound in Thurston Wood?” said Mr. Clayton. Mrs. Morris looked into the speaker’s face, as if she wondered and half hoped that something lay behind his words. “Parson,” said Piggy Morris, “you should have some good reason for asking that question. Have you any ground for doubting it?” “Mr. Clayton!” said Mary eagerly, “Is he, can he be alive?”