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ing England for ever, and he could not do so without
a pang of intenso bitterness. Markham and the young marquis shook hands cordially, after the manner of Englishmen. Had they been foreigners there would have been great embracing. Then the marquis turned to Dick Martin. "Be off with you, my lad," he said, "and got to your barracks as quickly as you can. You have done well and bravely, and I shall not forget you.”Dick Martin coughed as he saluted the marquis.
"If you please, colonel, I think of taking my dis
charge."
"Your discharge, Dick ?"
"Yes, colonel. "But—but—"
"Beg pardon, colonel, but when officers are brought out into tho Colour Court to be shot all for nothing-, it will be tho turn of drummers next; so I thiuk, colonel, I shall leave the army." "It is desertion, Dick."
“Nobody will know it, sir. I shall go with Captain Markham, if he will let me, and there is no one on shore who will point out the route that poor Dick Martin the drummer has taken." "No one," replied the marquis. "I do not see
you." Dimly Markham could just see the boy holding out his arms towards the boat, but there was no difficulty in understanding the action. " With pleasure, Dick," he,cried. "Leap!" Another moment, and the wherry was unmoored and shot out into the darkness. " Heaven protect them!" said the Marquis of Charlton. "I can do no more." The tide was fairly on the turn, and the boat only required to bo guided, in fact, to make very rapid way
down the river. And so silently and steadily did it glide upon the surface of the stream that, by a little delusion of the fancy, Markham could imagine that some black moving panorama was passing him with great rapidity. The river Thames was by no means spanned at that time by the number of bridges that now mark its course, and the wherry that carried our four fugitives, after encountering no little peril in shooting, as it was technically called, one of the narrow arches of old London Bridge, might be considered fairly on its route
down the stream. It was very curious to see how the daylight came in strange grey flashes, as if from far out at sea. Bertha then spoke, glancing and pointing backward
as she did so. " See, Markham, how dim and distant llio houses and spires of London are getting. We are leaving it and all
dangers far behind us." "Yes, thank Heaven!" Dick Martin4ouched Markham on the arm, "Captain! caplnin!" "What is it, Dick i" "Look yonder." Markham glanced in the direction indicated and saw a large eight-oared galley shooting out from a kind of wharf at tho sido of the stream, while some of ite rowers seemed to rest upon their oars and to wait for orders from a man in uniform who sat at tho stern. "What is it, Dickr" asked Markham. "Do you
know P" " It is one of the new guard-boats, captain, that go about trying to catch Jacobites. They come up as high
as Westminster sometimes. There came a tlnsh over the face of the young officer, and he looked at the Mystery in Scarlet for a tew mo ments, as though he wen? about to ask him to take ono of the oars, but Dick Martin interposed. " Let mo, captain. I can pull. t
" Quick ! then, quick !" The wherry made much better speed by Markham and Dick each taking an oar than when the former used them both, and as regarded tho guard-boat, thero seemed to bo some doubt or indecision of action on board, which was greatly in favour of the fugitives, for they were fairly in tho tide, near the centre of tho stream, and shot along with rapidity. The eight-oared galley, however, gave chase in tho course of two or three minutes, and then began indeed a race which was one of life or death. Lazily beating up the stream, and taking long tacks, was a black awkward-looking lugger, tho sails of which flapped against its short stunted masts, and every rope on board of which seemed slack and uncarcd for. What littlo wind there was happened to bo northerly, so that the lugger could just make a little way against tho stream. Markham made his determination in an instant. " Dick," he said, "take both the oars, or, rather, bo prepared to take this ono the moment I push it over to
you." " Yes, captain." "Now ! now!" The wherry approaching tho lugger, and the lugger on one of its long tacks approaching tho wherry, mado
together an accumulated speed that tho eignt-oared boat had no chance against. Mnrkham waved his hat just as the wherry shot into the shadow of the clumsy big black vessel.
There was a rattle and a squeaking of some pulley blocks, and the awkward-looking fabric paused for a
moment. " Thero is a king of England !" shouted Markham. " Where is he ?" responded a voice from somewhere on board tho vessel, although no human being was
visible. Markham hesitated for one instant. His instincts as an officer were not quite obliterated,
but a glance at Bertha was more than sufficient, and
he gave the response—
" N9t at St. James's." A ladder of ropes was flung over the side of the lugger, and a couple of hardy-looking seamen descended, with all tho ease as though they were going down a
carpeted staircase. The wherry was caught by a boat-hook, and then a
small oval port-hole was flung open, and a visage bronzed and blackened by wind and weather was pro
jected through it. " How mush, mynheer P and vero vash to go f" " Any port in Holland," replied Markham.
" How mush r" " A thousand pounds !" cried Bertha, in clear shrill
accents. "All avay! All avay! Tomblo ups! Tomble
ups!" There was a shrill whistle, and by the time our littlo party was upon tho deck of the lugger the whole
aspect of affairs on board seemed changed as if by
magic. Every rope was taut, and, as if instinct with life,
the vessel rounded to the cuiTent of the stream, up flew a cloud of canvass, and she was off. Thero was a cry of rage on board the eight-oared
boat, succeeded by a rattle of firearms. " Ha ! ha! Von!" cried the Dutch captain. " Von !" With a boom, that awakened many an echo on the banks of the river, the Dutch lugger fired a carronade, more in bravado than with a view of doing any mis chief, and then, the wind freshening, all chance of pur
suit was in live minutes at an end. • • * • • • ■
We tako a leap past a month of time, and various events unexpected m their nature had taken place in London, while various other events thoroughly ex pected had not taken place at all.
To begin with the latter, the king, contrary to all the expectations of the Marquis of Charlton, took no notice whatever of the startling events of that terrible night when he had oscillated, so to speak, between St. James's and Whitehall. There was some royal policy at work which induced this inaction, but, whatever was its motive, it was maintained without any apparent evasion.
The marriage of the Marquis of Charlton with Agnes Bellair was duly celebrated in tho Chapel Royal, and at the same time another couple were there united—viz., Lucy Kerr and Lieutenant Ogilvie. We can only say that General Bellair and his son were present at these nuptials, and that the queen behaved munificently to both the brides. And now we take another leap, and three years have passed away, at the end of which period we will conduct the reader to an ancient stately red-brick mansion at the Hague. It is full of gable-ends and curious old windows, and surrounded by stately trees, that give it an air of solemn, if we may not say sombre, magnificence. But the sun is shining through the denso foliage of those trees, and upon the parterres, crowded with beau tiful tulips, which form such a feature of Dutch gardening. And there is sunshine within as well as without, for a gay wedding party aio filling the saloons with beauty, brilliancy, and joy. Bertha has that morning been united to Captain Markham, and as the Mystery in Scarlet pronounces a blessing on them both there is a new-born joy upon his face, and he no longer regrets the visionary crown his once feeble grasp at which nearly cost him his own
life and the lives of all he held most dear,
THE END.