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letters was a natural though very unfortunate one. The learned gentleman spoke at considerable length, and drew a most touching picture of Yriarte as a forlorn and ill-used foreigner. The hero of the story preserved his composure admirably, and the prosecution maintained the silence which they had bound themselves to.

But the magistrate, who much mistrusted the appearance of the prisoners, asked so many questions that the fabric so carefully built by their counsel soon vanished. It was impossible to conceal Yriarte's character, and Anton was too plainly his tool.

The result was that the prisoners were committed for trial by jury, as the magistrate considered the case too serious, and the necessary punishment too heavy, for it to be decided in a police court. As soon as this was known, Dorothy went straight away to her home and hurried to her drawing-room. There she found Ernestine walking up and down in a state of suppressed excitement, her face pale, her hands clasped tight together.

"Is it over?" she exclaimed, as Dorothy entered.

"Yes," said Dorothy, sinking into a chair, quite exhausted with her rapid walk.

"Is he found guilty?"

"He is to be tried by jury; and it is expected, I heard, that he will get penal servitude for life.”

"What!" cried Ernestine, in a tone of voice that electrified Dorothy; "No-surely you don't mean it ?"

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Indeed I do."

"Penal servitude for life!" repeated Ernestine; "Oh, how shocking-how shocking! How wicked she is how cruel! when she-oh, it is too terrible to think of." And, quite overcome with agitation, Ernestine covered her face with trembling hands. Dorothy looked

at her keenly, then rose, and brought her a glass of wine.

"Drink it," she said; "you will make yourself ill, and you cannot afford to do so. These people can take care of themselves."

"Yes, I suppose so; I don't understand them. But, Dorothy, think of it-a man whom she has loved! Thank Heaven, I am not in that house now."

"But she did not love him," replied Dorothy contemptuously.

"Oh yes, she did," said Ernestine; "with her sort of love she did. But I never dreamed till now how near a neighbour such love is to hate.'

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"Have you met him?" asked Dorothy, with a look of suppressed curiosity. She was intensely puzzled by the depth of Ernestine's agitation, and the knowledge she seemed to possess of Laura's relations with Yriarte.

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Do

Never," answered Ernestine. "Well, I recognised him, and his accomplice too; oddly enough, I had seen them both before without being aware of it. I have a tenacious memory for faces. you remember one evening long ago, when you were coming here with me from Mrs. Vavasour's, we met a little dandy who you said had followed you from the hospital? He admired your personal appearance, and did not return you the compliment; I remember you said he ought to be put under sanitary regimen. He remarked that you were a deuced fine woman as we passed him in the street. Do you recall the man I mean?"

"I think so," said Ernestine. "Yes; I remember the man who said that as we passed, just under a lamp-post. And that was Yriarte ! I wish I had not seen him! I wish I had never heard of him! Oh, Dorothy, it is making a weak fool of me, this helpless position in the midst of such a hateful tragedy."

"Dear Ernestine, I think you are nervous, and exaggerate the horrors of the affair. Yriarte richly deserves his punishment, and Laura is quite proud of having accomplished the duty of punishing him."

"But she-how dare she take up such a task? I wonder the heavens did not fall on her. Dorothy, don't talk to me; I am provoked into saying foolish things. I begin to see that this world is a mystery to me."

"You are in it, but not of it," said Dorothy; "you are the most unworldly person I know, and I am quite glad you recognise the fact at last. Don't put on your hat in such a hurry-you are not fit to run away to your work yet. And you have not heard about my recognising Yriarte's fellow-pri

soner."

"Well ?" wearily.

said Ernestine,

"I knew him at once; I have seen him sitting as a model at halfa-crown an hour many a time. A splendidly handsome fellow; all body, and no brains-regularly run to beauty as a plant runs to seed. A mere tool in Yriarte's hands, evidently he had never had any money to lend Yriarte, it was perfectly plain on the face of it. The whole thing was so easily seen to have been got up to frighten Laura, that I don't at all wonder at the talk I heard about a heavy sentence."

"Dorothy, don't tell me any more; I am sated with horrors."

Dorothy opened her eyes very wide indeed. "Horrors?" she repeated; "why, this is not so dreadful."

"Oh, it is, it is," said Ernestine, passionately; "why, the world is heartless-cold, cruel-yes, heart

less."

She dropped her face upon her hands, which were clasped on the

table before her.

When, after some moments of a sad silence, she raised her head again, Coventry stood opposite her, his eyes fixed upon her with strange expression in them which deeply moved her. They were full of love and a yearning desire to help her.

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Dorothy was not in the room.

There is something priestly in the poetic character. Poets are truly the elder brothers of the race, and the younger members of that great family are penetrated by their insight and aided by their spiritual experience. The true ghostly father is he who can breathe the rarified air of those heights of the spirit where poetry finds her home.

Ernestine, looking up into his eyes, recognised in Coventry the ideal father confessor. This un

worldly being would read rightly an opened heart, and was incapable of any of the pettinesses of ordinary human nature which make confession unsafe.

"He ought not to be so heavily punished," she said, full of excitement, and seeming not to remember that Coventry had only just come into the room, and had not been present during her talk with Dorothy. "He does not deserve it, and it is wicked that she should be able to crush him merely for her own selfish ends-that his whole life should be sacrificed so cruelly in order that she may be rich. Now I can believe in the accusations of cruelty which are made against women - I never could before. But what can be more hideous than for a woman to condemn a man to the life of a convict

because he is in her way ? Why could she not stab him, or pay an assassin ? Such a deed would have been angelic by the side of this, which civilisation permits and justice shields. I understand now how vivisection can exist; there

are natures to whom the occupation is natural and easy. It is the injustice of the thing that hurts me."

"I have often thought," remarked Coventry reflectively, "that I ought rather to have christened you Themis than Minerva, you have such an instinctive love of justice in your character."

"But," said Ernestine, "there is such a crying lack of justice here, that one who knew all the circumstances must perceive it."

"You know too much for your peace of mind," said Coventry, looking at her with that expression in his eyes which seemed to draw out her soul.

"And too little to be of any real use," she answered; "but I am so thankful I had the courage to come away before this was done. If I were with Arthur now, I think I could not hold my tongue, and let Laura get all she wishes by just putting her foot upon her lover. The cold and bloodless cruelty of this is to me intolerable. I could not have borne to see him sink into this degradation of selfishness with her-I should have betrayed her."

She was talking to herself all this while, only feeling an intense relief in the sense that there was someone in the same room with her whom she could trust utterly. Coventry asked no questions; he let her talk on and ease her heart, and when she paused he turned to her and said, 66 Laura has come between you two, and spoiled the harmony of your lives. But why let her spoil them altogether? Why not let Dr. Doldy at least understand the motives of your actions ?"

He had touched, as he well knew, upon a tender spot. Ernestine would have given ten years of life to have Dr. Doldy understand her conduct aright.

"No, she said, starting to her feet; "that may not be. I have tried to see the right, and will try to follow it. I have a secret to keep, and I will keep it; but I will not be paid for keeping it."

With which enigmatical speech she departed, forgetting to say good-bye. Coventry was too absorbed himself to notice her rude

ness.

(To be continued.)

CONTEMPORARY PORTRAITS.

NEW SERIES.-No. 8.

CHARLES DARWIN, F.R.S.

CHARLES ROBERT DARWIN was born on the 12th of February, 1809, at Shrewsbury. His father was Dr. Robert Waring Darwin, F.R.S., his grandfather the celebrated Dr. Erasmus Darwin, and his maternal grandfather Josiah Wedgwood, F.R.S., the well-known potter. He was educated at Shrewsbury, under Dr. Butler, from whence he proceeded to the University of Edinburgh; there he stayed two years, and then entered Christ's College, Cambridge, where he took the degree of Bachelor of Arts. In 1831 he sailed with Captain Fitzroy in the "Beagle," on her voyage round the world, returning at the close of 1836. In 1839 he married his cousin, Miss Emma Wedgwood, and ever since 1842 he has lived at Down, near Bromley, in Kent.

Mr. Darwin's journal of researches into the natural history and geology of the countries visited by H.M.S. "Beagle" is universally admitted to be one of the most instructive and most charming books of travel in the English language. During his voyage he paid much attention to the interesting problem presented by the peculiar conformation of coral islands, and in the year 1842 he published his celebrated work on this subject. The circular or oval shape of so many reefs, each having a lagoon in the centre closely surrounded by a deep ocean, and rising but a few feet above the sea level, had long been a puzzle to the physical geographer. The favourite theory was that these were the summits of submarine volcanoes, on which the coral had grown. The great size of some of these "atolls" was, however, a serious difficulty. Again, as coral does not grow at greater depths than about twenty-five fathoms, the immense number of these reefs formed an almost insuperable objection to this theory. The Laccadives and Maldives, for instance, meaning literally the "lac of islands" and the "thousand islands," are a series of such atolls; and it was really impossible to imagine so great a number of craters, all so nearly of the same altitude. Mr. Darwin showed, however, that so far from the ring of coral resting on a corresponding ridge of rock, the lagoons on

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