Once upon a time there were two highwaymen, _Charlie_ and _Crabb Spring_; two men, not highway, _Saul Coplestone_ and _John Cole_; two marriageable sisters, _Sarah_ and _Christina Rowland_. The highwaymen, being pestilential and murderous, badly wanted catching; of the two potential heroes, _Saul_ was a stout enough fellow on the surface but a poltroon at bottom, while _John_, though less terrific in physique, was modest and courageous to a degree. Of the sisters, _Sarah_ had most of the looks and _Christina_ all the merits, so that at the beginning of things both _Saul_ and _John_ were concentrated upon the former, who, being a little fool, preferred _Saul_, but, being also a little vixen, encouraged both. The brothers _Spring_ appearing Dartmoor way, _Sarah_ promised, in an expansive moment, to marry whichever of her suitors caught them single-handed. This was apparently impossible, but nevertheless one of them did it. Need it be said which? Need it be said which of the two sisters the proved hero ultimately took to wife? No, this is one of those cases in which it is impossible for the reader, with the best intentions in the world, not to prophesy and prophesy accurately. None the less it is worth while to spend time and money on _The Master of Merripit_ (WARD, LOCK) for the following adequate reasons. It is from the pen of Mr. EDEN PHILLPOTTS; if the conclusions are foregone, the excitement throughout is intense; the local colour and the supernumerary characters are charming as usual, and the scheme by which the villains were entrapped is admirable in design and execution. This learned clerk, for all his expert knowledge of the art of catching highwaymen, neither anticipated it nor, upon the most critical reflection, is able to find a flaw in it. * * * * *