28 rm: rmrism. · CHAPTER III. “ lt is a written bondave-writ in stripes, And letter'd in our biood. Like beaten hounds, We croncb. and cry, but clench not—lick the hand That strikes and scourges." Hasrnvos turned furiously at the interruption; but the stranger, though entirely unarmed, stood firmly, and looked on him with composure. •‘ 'l‘hat's a bright sword you wear," said he, " but scarcely a good stroke, and any thing but a gallant one, Master Sergeant, which you make with it. How now, is it the fashion with English soldiers to draw upon unarmed men?" The person addressed turned upon the speaker with a scowl which seemed to promise that he would transfer some portion of his anger to the new- comer. He had no time, however, to do more than look his wrath at the interruption; for among the many persons whom the noise had brought to the scene of action was the fair Bella Humphries herself. She waited not an instant to place herself between the parties, and, as if her own interest in the persons concemed gave her an especial right in the matter, she fearlessly passed under the raised weapon of Has- tings, addressing him imploringly, and with an air of intimacy, which was, perhaps, the worst feature in the business--so, at least. the individual appeared to think to whose succour she had come. His brow blackened still more at her approach, and when she interfered to prevent the strife, a muttered curse, half-audible, rose to his lips; and brandishing the club which he had wielded with no little readiness before, he seemed ` more than ever desirous of renewing the combat, though at all its disadvantages. But the parties arotmd gener-
