"Not unless she be with her friends, the and get either substantiated or disproved Ballows, at Minchley. You might do well the identity of Miss March with Miss Robto inquire. But, if she is with them, possi-erts. So he wrote off to Miss Varnish that bly she may not go by the name of Miss day, informing her that he verily believed Roberts. Indeed, I fancy she would find a he could aid her that is, could expose the change of name rather convenient at this futility of Miss March's pretensions. Only, time. Perhaps she goes by the name he required for that end a certain service which, until lately, she always bore, Miss at Miss Varnish's own hands. Would she March." take the earliest possible opportunity of seeing this young "pretender," and turn the conversation between them to North Wales, and carefully remember and record the places in that region with which Miss March declared herself familiar? M'Quantigan imposed this service on his old friend Emma with perfect confidence. He was well assured (and so he told her), that she had not committed herself to any open hostility with Mrs. Torring's young friend. So he waited, very confident that he should quickly know whether, indeed, her enemy and Mrs. Ferrier's enemy were one person or two. "Miss March!" and the hat which Mr. M'Quantigan had taken in his hand, fell out of it on to the floor. "Miss March! And do you say that this Miss Roberts ever went by the name of Miss March? "Yes, always; until, as you'll see, when you look at those papers I spoke of, she was found out to be the daughter, the illegitimate daughter the illegitimate daughter of a Welshman of the name of Roberts. Did you ever hear her spoken of?" I "I cannot say ! it struck me as if I had. shall very likely be better able to tell you, when I see you again. Now, good bye, Mrs. Ferrier; and I'll lose no time in satisfying you on this, and every other matter." And he took his leave, and was gone. What an interview it had been! And by what a mere accident-it almost made him tremble to think-had the most important fact of all been given to his knowledge. The utter collapse of his matrimonial aspirings was already as a thing which had happened to him long ago; so much of stranger matter had superseded it. Could it verily be that "Miss March," the subject of his Somersetshire friend's profuse forebodings, was one and the same with that "Miss Roberts," dread of whom appeared the animating principle of Mrs. Ferrier's actions? Seated again in the coffee-room of his hotel, Mr. M'Quantigan drew out Miss Varnish's letter with a much more respectful handling, than that with which he had crammed it in. Of course, it did not escape him that Miss Varnish was paltering with truth when she expressed so firm a conviction that Eva's pretensions to be a Campion were all deceitful ones. The writer was inwardly convinced that the claim would prove true, and was in agony of terror at the utter ruin which the acknowledgment of such rights would bring to her own expectations. The Irish friend of Miss Varnish felt sure already that there was some truth in Eva's new pretensions. The contradictory mystery which over-shadowed her might well have such an issue as that. However, he had already written to ascertain if there was any lingering chance of claiming Eva as his daughter. He must forthwith write, This day was Thursday, and let Miss Varnish be as prompt and as speedy as she might, an answer from her could hardly reach him until Monday. In fact, it did not come to him until the Tuesday. But his letter of inquiry as to the property in Wales was answered by the Saturday. It was the common talk at Tremallyoc (so M'Quantigan's Bangor friend wrote to tell him), and, indeed, throughout a very wide circle in Carnarvonshire, that Mr. Gryffyth's will had been executed under a very strange mistake; but that the innocent usurper, known as Miss Roberts, had appealed to the heir-at-law to rescue her out of her afflicting position; and that he, not behind her in an upright generosity, had arranged matters very justly and reasonably. Having read this, M'Quantigan put aside, once and for good, any further idea of thrusting himself on Eva. He was quite disposed, on his own account, to become her enemy; and horrid purposes, which were to attain a fixed shape by-and-by, already floated indistinctly before him. It must be remembered that this man had not only been a criminal before the law; he came of a race by whom the sanctity of human life is held in little account. We do not speak of his being an Irishman, but of his being an Orangeman. [Since we began to write this story, some Liverpool Orangemen have shown their respect for the Decalogue by threatening the life of a bishop on Sunday!] The blood of Mrs. Ferrier's new ally had run, for several generations, in the veins of men to whom the life of every Romanist was a little less sacred than that of a wolf. | which had appeared to Mr. M'Quantigan a The brutal ascendancy had made murder likely thing, from the moment that Mrs. easy in conception. On Tuesday, the 23rd of September, there came, as we said, an answer from Miss Varnish. We had better give it as it was written by her : "Deverington Hall, September 21, 1856. "DEAREST MURPHY,- It was not until late in the afternoon of yesterday that I could manage to call and see Miss March (for I do not admit her ridiculous claim to any other title). I had no difficulty in getting her into conversation, for I do not think she has any conception of my having overheard her scheming with that woman Patterson, last Monday. Indeed, I contrived to meet her, as if by accident, that very day; and in quite an innocent manner, I mentioned the observatory. However, I talked about North Wales, as you desired; and she let fall that she had stayed a short time near Carnarvon; she mentioned a place which (to spell it as pronounced) is called 'Thlinbuthlin,' but which she was so obliging as to spell for me, 'Double L, Y, Ñ, B, double U, double L, Y, N.' This I wrote down,-laughingly, of course before her own eyes. She also mentioned a place called 'Tremallyoc.' I could see that there was a great deal respecting her adventures in those places, of which it did not suit her ladyship to speak. It might be well for you to go and enquire there. It should be no manner of expense to you. I suppose Miss March intends to keep her foolish pretensions to herself and the servant, until some opportunity offers; until, for instance, Mr. Herbert Campion comes home, in about a month's time. So, you see, we may find time to trip her up beforeband. It was good of you, dearest Murphy, to answer my letter so quickly, and to enter so warmly into my troubles. But I was sure you would. I shall never forget you, be my fate what it will, "Yours ever affectionately, "EMMA VARNISH." "P. S. As you seem to have some idea that you know Miss March, I will briefly describe her to you. As I said before, she is somewhat stout. She has 'golden brown' hair; large (unpleasantly large) brown eyes; a really good complexion (fair), but with a great deal too much colour in her cheeks. She has a dashing boldness of manner that some people like." This letter fully established the identity Ferrier had mentioned Eva under the name of Miss March. To Mrs. Ferrier, therefore, he at once betook himself, still keeping his resolution to tell her less or more of the truth, as the great principle of expediency might appear to dictate. He found her eager to see him as before, and this time he was under no delusion as the cause of her eagerness. He did not purpose telling her that Eva was assuming kindred with the Campion family. If she heard of such claims, and were led to believe them, there would at once be an ending of her great objection to Eva as a daughter-in-law, and a consequent ending of any profit to be gained by him in preventing the marriage. Of course, the first question she asked him was, whether he could favour her with any news. His answer was, that he had discovered (after a great deal of trouble in inquiring, he said,) that Eve was living at Chelford, in Somersetshire, under her assumed name of Miss March, and (he also gathered) "up to her old tricks." "Indeed, Mr M'Quantigan! Up to her old tricks? Leading foolish people to believe in her, and setting families at variance, I shouldn't wonder!" Madam, that's just what I hear entirely. The friend and relation who writes to me, tells me that this Miss March has got into the house of an old lady, and is trying to wheedle her out of all her property." "Just what I should expect, Mr. M'Quantigan! I grieve to say it, just what I should expect. I think that old lady, whoever she is, ought to be cautioned at once." "We must be careful how we act, my dear madam. That girl is more artful than you would ever believe." "Believe! There's scarcely any wickedness that I should not believe of her, and I know, but too well, that she's just the most artful creature in existence." And Mrs. Ferrier thought within herself, what a blessing it was that she had persuaded Richard to promise a certain delay in marrying. He would evade the promise, no doubt of it. He would find some quibble, whereby to escape. But it had prevented his taking Miss March to wife at once. He, probably, would defer the crowning folly until January; and before then this wicked young woman, unconscious, very likely, how closely she was watched, would get herself into some scrape, not to be forgiven by even the deluded Richard. We may just observe that Mrs. Ferrier and her ally now always spoke of Eva as in all the time to come, and not only for the present?" "To be sure I do, Mr. M'Quantigan. I want to have matters so arranged that this marriage cannot be. I think it can be done, but only by an extreme course, and that extreme course, I think, we are justified in taking." But would "We are, my dear madam. "Well, indeed, Mr. M'Quantigan! I wonder that idea never before struck me. Yes, certainly, I should really think she must be a female Jesuit." you wish to know my plan when I have had "And ought we to be particular in deal-time to settle upon it?" ing with such people as that, Mrs. Ferrier? Is it right to apply ordinary rules to our method of getting rid of such enemies to society? "I should think not, indeed, Mr. M'Quantigan. We must, when we have such wicked people to deal with, do many things which, in themselves, are very painful. Have you told me all that your correspondent tells you about this wretched, abandoned girl? I Pretty nearly, Mrs. Ferrier. I'm sorry can't show you the letter. But it contains one or two little matters of business which my friend does not authorise me to devulge. She just says, besides, "that Miss March has already shocked all decent people in the town by her behaviour in attracting gentlemen, and such other things." "Just what I should have thought, Mr. M'Quantigan. Tallies exactly with another account which I had of her. That poor old lady! I really don't feel easy when I think what that girl may be doing to her. Robbing her may not be the worst." "She just deserves to be hanged, Mrs. Ferrier." Well, indeed, you're not far wrong, Mr. M'Quantigan. Oh, I would give myself to be hanged; I would be hanged over and over again, rather than my foolish son should marry this infamous creature." Mr. M Quantigan waited a second or two; then looked at her very eagerly, and spoke slowly: 66 Then, Mrs. Ferrier; you really would do something, and risk something, to make this marriage that you dread impossible? "That I would, Mr. M'Quantigan. I beseech you, accept my assurance in the fullest and strongest sense. If you hesitate to do so, I told you before I had a little money at my disposal; well, then, I will place £400 in your hands, and consider myself your debtor over and above for life, if you can contrive to make this marriage an impossible one." "It shall be done, Mrs. Ferrier! It shall all be done! You want to feel yourself safe 'Why, I rather think no, Mr. M‘Quantigan. I will leave it all in your hands, and shall only wish to be assured that you have fairly succeeded." Two possible ways occurred to her in which the gentleman might earn his £400 at her hands. He might pursue his old advantage with Miss March (as understood by her from Mrs. Dowlas's letter), and drive her into a marriage with himself, or he might establish a watch on her present proceedings, and find her out in some sort of wickedness which would overthrow her character beyond every chance of re-establishing it. Mrs. Ferrier thought that she should be furthering either scheme, rather by her ignorance than by her connivance. "Then," presently replied her Hibernian ally, "you'll never be changing your mind when the thing is done? You'll never be for finding fault, or complaining that I've gone too far for you? Pray do not suspect me of any such ungrateful feelings, Mr. M'Quantigan. As I said before, I give up every other consideration to this one. And, now Mr M'Quantigan, if you remember, I was to show you some papers connected with this wretched young woman. You will see how she first became acquainted with our family, and what a very different return we deserved from her from that which she is actually making. And you'll also see how she came to find her real relations those people in North Wales." And Mrs Ferrier opened her drawer, and took out her brother-in-law's famous narrative, and also a copy of the letter which Mr. Dowlas had written to her from Llynbwllyn. These documents she put into Mr. M'Quantigan's hands; and, with them, he he returned to his temporary home. They would have been much more interesting to him to read, only that he knew already how much of their contents had been founded on a serious mistake. The most interesting point was the singular occurrence of the name of Campion in the history. That circumstance might, indeed, 1 d e have suggested to Eva the idea of claiming | my mind to lead this wretched life of depen- On the following day (Wednesday, the 24th), he wrote to Miss Varnish, as follows: 1 "DEAR EMMA, My great regard for "Your disinterested friend, On Saturday, the 27th of the month, there came this rather discouraging ans wer: "DEAREST MURPHY, - Your desperate ideas are really alarming to me. Of course, desirous as I am of securing my threatened prospects, I could not venture on any such perilous step as you seem to hint at. And you must be mocking me, to propose any such thing. If the story be true, as you really appear to believe, I must make up "EMMA." Mr. Murphy was brought to a standstill by this letter. Much as Miss Varnish dreaded the idea of disappointment and poverty, she dreaded the thought of crime still more. It suited M Quantigan to have her believe that, in her interests only was he ready to take measures against Miss March; and he began to consider, since those interests were not strong enough to overcome her scruples, whether any stronger influence could be brought to bear upon them. It was expedient that the crime, on which he had thoroughly determined, should be committed with Miss Varnish's assistance. She might act as a decoy to get Eva into the desirable situation; moreover, she might prove a most useful scapegoat, should after suspicions arise, to bear the weight of any accusation. He knew the heart of this woman. She loved him, and would hate any rival. Mrs. Ferrier had strangely imagined him to be the lover of Miss March. If Miss Varnish could be inoculated with the same idea, her languid jealousy of Eva might be stirred into a jealousy very different in its origin and kind. And this brought our Irishman to another matter; how had Mrs. Ferrier been led into that strange mistake of imagining that he had stood in such a relationship with Eva? He put the two things together, and began to see a way of compassing his evil end by taking them together. On Monday, the 29th of the month, he again visited Mrs. Ferrier, for the purpose of ascertaining who, or what, had inspired her with so mistaken a notion, and of following up a plan which will be shown in his own conversation. Mrs. Ferrier, after some little pressing on his own side, put into his hand the letter she had received, almost a month before, from Mrs. Dowlas. That letter, as we know, alluded to Mr. M'Quantigan in terms not the most respectful. But Murphy was only too thankful to the writer for having failed to identify him with Bryan O'Cullamore, well known by her in former days at Liverpool. He grinned to himself as he read the letter over. "Now, bless your sweet disposition, my dear," he said internally, "that is sure to think the worst of everybody at all times, - I recognize the charitable heart of my good and dear sister Jane. Anybody less prompt at thinking evil would have pounced upon the truth. Thank you, my dear, for not doing so." Then he returned the letter to Mrs. Ferrier. "I do assure you, ma'am," he said, "that if anything was not as it should be, Miss March, and not I, was in the wrong." “That I believe, as a matter of course, Mr. M'Quantigan. But tell me I am fearfully anxious to know-how are you getting on in the matter which I have so much at heart?" very "My friend, as I told you, had conceived a very bad opinion of the young woman. But there's no setting bounds to her tricks she has actually had the address to gain my friend -a good, but rather simple sort of lady - to gain her to her own side. And Miss Varnish, that is my esteemed friend's name, is quite persuaded that she has been mistaken; and, as amends for what she thinks to have been a foolish prejudice, is resolved to stand by her against all her enemies. And if anything were said or done against Miss March, this weak, well-meaning lady would be down upon everybody who had a hand in it. We are beaten, Mrs. Ferrier, hopelessly beaten; unless we can convince this good soul what a viper she is warming in her bosom." "Oh, dear! Oh, dear! There surely is some witchcraft in the girl! But I'll fight her to the utmost extremity, Mr. M'Quantigan; there surely must be a way of opening your friend's eyes." You can do it, Mrs. Ferrier. I doubt whether I could." "I, rather than you? I, who am a stranger? "Yes, Mrs. Ferrier, and I will freely tell you what I mean. We have spoken already of-of the transient influence which this deceiving young woman exercised over me. The matter is very freely and tersely spoken of in this letter, written by Mrs. Jane Dowlas. Now, it would be a somewhat delicate matter for me to speak of this; but you, if you would, might write and warn Miss Varnish against the friendship she seems to be making; and you might enclose Mrs. Dowlas's letter, to show that you do not speak out of your own head. The letter does, indeed, speak of the girl as Miss Roberts,' but, with what my friend already knows, she will not find much difficulty in believing that they are one and the same." After one or two more discussions that day, Mrs. Ferrier agreed to do as she was counselled; and on the morrow it was done. Her own letter to Miss Varnish was very brief; it simply consisted in an assurancethat Miss March and Miss Roberts were one and the same, and in a caution against the young woman, as sure to repay the purest kindness with the foulest ingratitude. M'Quantigan, meantime, wrote also a very brief note to the same lady. He told her that, of course, it must be as she pleased; his desire of efficiently helping her continued the same. He was not greatly astonished when, on Friday, the 3rd of October, he got this letter from his Emma: “MY DEAR MURPHY, — You are very right, and I was a fool to have any such scruples. Let us get rid of her in any way we can; only let me know your wishes, and I will take any trouble and run any risk to forward them. I control myself, and keep good friends with her. "Your, "Emma." This letter was answered by return of post. And one or two more letters passed between the correspondents in the course of the next week. But, instead of copying them here, we shall leave them to be discovered in the events which were now being hurried on by them. On the afternoon of Saturday, the 11th of October, Mr. M'Quantigan made another call on Mrs. Ferrier. It was the fifth of his memorable interviews with her. One interview more strange, awful, and threatening, but more so to him than to |