by paying small outstanding debts to trades-
people, and settling with the owner of the
house, detained us till nearly noon, before
we were ready to get into the landlord's cart.
I looked behind me anxiously at starting,
and often afterwards on the road; but never
saw anything to excite my suspicions. In
settling matters with the landlord over night,
I had arranged that we should be driven to
the nearest town at which a post-chaise could
be obtained. My resources were just as
likely to hold out against the expenses of
posting, where public conveyances could not
be obtained, as against the expense of waiting
privately at hotels, until the right
coaches might start. According to my
calculations, my money would last till we got to
Scotland. After that, I had my watch, rings,
shirt-pin, and Mr. Batterbury, to help in
replenishing my purse. Anxious, therefore,
as I was about other things, money-matters,
for once in a way, did not cause me the
smallest uneasiness.

"We posted five- and- thirty miles, then
stopped for a couple of hours to rest, and
wait for a night coach, running northward.
On getting into this vehicle we were fortunate
enough to find the fourth inside-place
not occupied. Mrs. Baggs showed her sense
of the freedom from restraint thus obtained
by tying a huge red comforter round her
head like a turban, and immediately falling
fast asleep. This gave Laura and me full
liberty to talk as we pleased. Our conversation
was for the most part of that particular
kind which is not of the smallest importance
to any third person in the whole world. One
portion of it, however, was an exception to
this general rule. It had a very positive
influence on my fortunes, and it is, therefore,
I hope, of sufficient importance to bear being
communicated to the reader.

We had changed horses for the fourth time,
had seated ourselves comfortably in our
places, and had heard Mrs. Baggs resume the
kindred occupations of sleeping and snoring,
when Laura whispered to me:

"I must have no secrets, now, from you—
must I Frank?"

"You must have anything you like, do
anything you like, and say anything you like. You
must never ask leave—but only grant it!"

"Shall you always tell me that, Frank?"

I did not answer in words, but the
conversation suffered a momentary interruption.
Of what nature, susceptible people will easily
imagine. As for the hard-hearted I don't
write for them.

"My secret need not alarm you," Laura
went on, in tones that began to sound
rather sadly, " it is only about a tiny
pasteboard box that I can carry in the
bosom of my dress. But it has got three
diamonds in it Frank, and one beautiful
ruby. Did you ever give me credit for having
so much that was valuable about me?
—shall I give it you to keep for me?"

I remembered directly Old File's story of
Mrs. Knapton's elopement, of the jewels she
had taken with her, and of her husband's
suspicions that she had kept some of
them concealed from him to the day of her
death.

"It is your fortune, Laura," I answered;
"and I think that its present enviable position
in the bosom of your dress is the best that it
can possibly occupy. But who gave you these
valuable jewels?"

"My mother," said Laura, softly. "I think
I told you that I was by her bedside from the
time of her illness to the time of her death. She
was not very happy with my father—I must
say as much as that, to make you understand
what I am going to tell you. One night, when
she knew she was dying, she made me promise
beforehand to keep what she was going to
say a secret from my father and everybody,
except my husband, in case I ever married.
She then gave me this little box, and told me
never to let it out of my possession, for there
were jewels in it worth at least four or five
hundred pounds. She said it was all she
had to leave me if I was ever unhappy with
my father, or if I ever found myself alone
and helpless in the world. And then she told
me that my father had always suspected her,
from the time of my birth, of keeping some
of her jewels hidden from him—that she
was afraid to tell him she had done it for my
sake and that I was never to let him know
it, as I valued her last commands and her dying
blessing. I think, Frank, that was all that
passed between us; and I know that I have
always done as she bade me, since. My father
never said so in plain words; but I feel sure,
when my mother was gone, he suspected me,
as he had suspected her. It was hard to
keep to my promise sometimes—when I did
not know how to value a provision for me, as
I value it now. We shan't be quite helpless,
Frank, even if your friends won't help you—
shall we?"

The relief that I felt after hearing Laura's
narrative was not of a nature to be
communicated to her. If any unforeseen accident
placed me within the gripe of the law, I should
not now have the double trial to endure of
leaving my wife for a prison, and leaving her
helpless. Fearing that she might get some
hint of what was passing in my mind, if I
allowed her to ask too many questions about
our future, I changed the subject as soon as
possible.

Morning dawned and found us still awake.
The sun rose, Mrs. Baggs left off snoring, and
we arrived at the last stage before the coach
stopped. I got out to see about some tea
for my travelling companions, and looked up
at the outside passengers. One of them
seated in the dickey, looked down at me. He
was a countryman in a smock-frock, with a
green patch over one of his eyes. Something
in the expression of his uncovered eye made
me pause—reflect—turn away uneasily—and