We have already specified his attire-our readers may then well imagine his condition. His trowsers hung like wet sacks to his shaking legs; his new superfine coat was rapidly losing its brilliancy; the Paris-velvet white tile was a shapeless mass. However-what will not love do ?-onward he ran, now puffing and blowing hard, now pulling up to recover wind, then rushing on with desperation. At last he reached Southampton, and made directly for the Coach and Horses. He rang lustily at the bell, which was quickly answered by Boots.

'You have a lady, I think, who came by the train to-day, who has been taken ill,' said Jemmy, shaking his drenched hat with one hand, and wiping down his coat with the other.

Boots stared at him, aad said he'd ausk'' Chambermaid having answered summons, and replying in the affirmative, which gave a glow of satisfaction to Jemmy, he was told to walk in.

'What a dreadful night!' said Jemmy, 'to get this terrible soaking in only so short a distance!'

Lauks me! so you have, indeed,' said chambermaid,- sich a little ways, indeed. The lady has been expecting you ever so long.' Ah! I dare say,' said Jemmy, 'no doubt of it,-no doubt of it. business; but these things will happen.'

'So they will, sir,' said she. 'Yes,' interrupted Jemmy,

though, eh?'

6

Sad

so they will. Better late than never,

Ah! very true, sir. That's what I say when gentlemen rings in sich a hurry. The lady wanted to send for somebody else.'

The devil she did!' said Jemmy.

'Yes,' said chambermaid; but my missis said as how she was sartain sure you'd come.'

'Much obliged to her,' ejaculated Jemmy, relieved.

I'll just go and tell the lady you are here, sir, and be back in a minute. Please step in the coffee-room.'

'Well,' thought Inkpen, though bad began this day, let me hope now that nothing worse remains behind. Here I am at last under the same roof, after all my anxieties, with my adorable Juliana-a pretty pickle, I must confess, though, for a bridegroom on his marriage-night. Never mind-let fate do its worst.'

Jemmy perked up, and actually tried a whistle, when the chambermaid returned.

'Please to walk up, sir-this way,' ushering the ardent and impatient Jemmy into No. 3, second pair front. Here is the gentleman you wanted to see, ma'am,' said the damsel, closing the door, leaving the happy couple alone.

Speak of Robinson's rush for the Derby,-the struggle for the best place at a sight,-speak of anything indicative of onward powerful impulse, and our readers will but faintly come up to the affectionate ardour of Jemmy Inkpen. To seize her in his arms with rapturous grasp, to stifle her with kisses, was the work of a moment,—and but the work of a moment; for, when relaxing for a second to draw breath and gaze upon her, he uttered Oh! Juliana-my life, my love!' he was astonished to find himself by a violent effort shaken off, while the lady replied to his exclamation by a loud, wild shriek, shouting with a very unfeminine howl, 'Och! murther! murther!-robbery !-mur

ther!' adding to every word, by way of an accompaniment, a terrific pull

at the bell.

It need scarcely be told that the house was in a few minutes in an uproar. Doors were heard opening in every direction, and following the sound, No. 3 was soon filled with men and women, clothed with what things they could huddle on. There stood Jemmy Inkpen, shivering like a dog in a wet sack, his eyeballs glaring in a wild stare of astonishment, the lady in either real or affected hysterics. In the midst of the confusion, when everybody was questioning, and nobody answering, in bounced a big, black-whiskered, mustachioed man, a light in one hand, and a boot-jack in the other, followed by the chambermaid trembling.

'What the devil's all this?' said he, banging down the candestick and hitting the drawer a crack that disordered its chest for the term of its natural life,-'what the blazes is all this about ?-spake, Katty, -spake,' said he, 'spake, my heart.'

Och! Mike,' groaned the lady, 'some vagabond, like the divil drawn through the Liffey, has broke into my room.'

Is it dramin' you are?' said Black-whiskers.

'Och! sure, no drame at all at all,' said the lady, rising up in bed, and giving a faint scream, sank down, pointing to Jemmy, saying, 'There's the murdrin' villain!'

Black-whiskers would have annihilated Jemmy on the spot, but for the chambermaid. He had already grasped the unfortunate Chanceryclerk by the throat, and was strangling him very scientifically, shaking him as an ogre might an infant,-the boot-jack was vengefully uplifted, when the chambermaid held his arm, and said there must be some dreadful mistake, and begged him not to commit murder.

Who are you?' said Black-whiskers, in a voice of thunder, his wild eyes flashing fire, 'spake!' A horrible guttural sound alone escaped from Jemmy.

and

'He's Dr. Leech's new assistant,' said the chambermaid, come to see your sister. Hasn't been here more than two mi

nutes.'

Oh ho!' said Black-whiskers, somewhat mollified, and perhaps not altogether desirous of continuing the scene; 'then, by the powers, he'll see the last of her.'

So saying, he dragged the unfortunate Jemmy out of the room, and fixing him at the head of a rather precipitous flight of stairs, took full measure of his distance, and with a ferocious kick sent the doomed Chancery-clerk, head first, down to the bottom of the flight. Aided by the instinct evoked by desperate circumstance, Jemmy in the hubble-bubble contrived to reach the door, and bolted out like a shot from a shovel.

The flashing of lights at an unusual hour, the screams that were heard distant at the dead hour of midnight, as may be imagined, roused the peaceful vicinity, and the police on duty were attracted to the spot. Poor, luckless Jemmy, breathless, gasping, groaning, soaked through, half-choked, his bones aching, through the shaking, kick, and fall, stumbled rather than walked across the street, where he sank down in the last stage of anguish and despair on the steps of a door, wishing death might come and relieve him from the miseries of his situation. Poor devil! he groaned aloud, but none cheered his

woe; he held his head drooping between his knees in helpless agony while his frame shook and quivered with every heart-drawn sob.

Such was the bridegroom on his wedding night,-such was his situ ation through no fault of his,-such is the result of the vanity of human expectations, even while acting up to the best intentions.

Jemmy had not remained in this dolorous position five minutes before he was awakened from a drowsiness, the combined result of overanxiety, fatigue, and their concomitants, which he was falling into, by the broad, blinding glare of what is called a policeman's bull's-eye held up to his face.

Come, get up,' said the constable, gruffly, 'Mister,-I wants you.'

'Do you?' said Jemmy, faintly. What for?'

'Oh! you'll know soon enough what for; but I thinks you knows what for without my telling of you.'

'I say, and I'll swear, and I'll prove it was all a mistake,' said Jemmy.

Very well,' said the constable, 'prove it if you can; but things look very dark against you. But come along.' So saying, he took hold of Inkpen by the arm, and brought him to the station-house.

Arrived there, the inspector and another constable were seen intently examining a printed paper, and alternately reading it and scrutinizing Jemmy, who by this time appeared to possess the feelings of a man who has got as far as the Press-room at Newgate, and declares himself quite resigned to his fate.

'Humph!' at last said the inspector, 'the description does not exactly answer; but yet he may be the accomplice. What's your name?' said he, addressing Jemmy.

'James Inkpen,' was the answer.

• What are you?'

'I don't care what becomes of me,' thought Jemmy. After what has happened, I'm a ruined man. So here goes-I'll out with all.— Chancery-clerk to Messrs. Squeezer, Shirk, and M'Quibble, of Gray's Inn,' said Inkpen boldly.

A bold and open avowal, to say the least,' said the inspector, and it saves me a great deal of trouble. Do you know one John Smith?'-'I do.'

'What was he?'-' Common Law-clerk in the same office.'

'Good again. This fellow thinks to turn approver,' thought the inspector. You are aware that John Smith is charged with forgery, and that you are supposed to be his accomplice?'

Jemmy sank for a moment, and a cold dew came over him. In a minute, however, the impenetrable magic panoply of innocence, which ever protects honest hearts, braced him up, and James Inkpen, the confidential clerk of unsullied character, stood erect, if not in the majesty, in all the strength, of conscious rectitude.

And,' continued the inspector, 'you are distinctly charged with embezzlement.

Who charges me?' said Ink pen, with a coolness and steadiness of manner that surprised those who had witnessed his previous prostration of mind and body.

Your employers, whom you have just named, Messrs. Squeezer, Shirk, and M'Quibble. As you have answered openly, I'll read you their communication, received this afternoon.'

"To the Superintendent of Police, Southampton.

"SIR,-Enclosed is the description of two clerks of ours, recently absconded: one John Smith,-(the description here given,)-charged with forging on us, &c., and the other James Inkpen, suspected of embezzlement and of being an accomplice of the said Smith, Inkpen obtained leave of absence from us, in order to visit relations in Warwickshire, yesterday, which we have found to be a false representation, and, upon inquiry, we have reason to believe he has gone to Southampton to escape abroad. He is supposed to have with him an abandoned female.' (Here Jemmy's strength began to fail, and he wiped his eyes.) Inkpen has long been in our employ, and we have always put the greatest faith in him, which, up to this moment, we have never found misplaced; but we are afraid he has been led into evil courses by Smith."

Poor Jemmy could stand this no longer-he sank upon his knees, and wept aloud. He would have called upon Heaven to bear witness to his innocence, but his utterance was choked; and, in pity to his now real state of suffering, he was led away, and, by the consideration of the inspector, placed in a bed. And the day that found James Inkpen at morn a blithesome bridegroom, leading in the sunshine of the heart and of the heavens a beloved wife to the altar, left him at midnight a prisoner, charged with felony-his solitary bed the gift of a policeman!

The nine o'clock train next morning brought down to Southampton three individuals, the most important to James Inkpen's human happiness; and, as in trains where hundreds, ay, and thousands, can be steamed along without any knowledge that they are mutual passengers, so it was in this case. Imprimis came Mrs. Inkpen, who had stopped at Basingstoke, and returned immediately, upon finding that Jemmy did not follow her, the poor fellow having passed her there in the mail-train, which goes direct. The next was Mr. Squeezer, with a Bow Street officer; and the third no less a personage than John Smith, the delinquent clerk. Mrs. Inkpen and Mr. Squeezer, though with very different objects, made their way to the police-office,-the wife as the best place to inquire in a strange town after her missing spouse; the attorney for any tidings of his missing clerks. Mr. Smith, of course, studiously avoided that mansion of safety.

Mr. Squeezer and the Bow Street officer entered the station-house first, and were followed by Mrs. Inkpen, who felt an incontrollable nervousness come over her. The officer soon made himself known to the inspector, introduced Mr. Squeezer of Gray's Inn, and a conversation in a whisper for a few minutes ensued. Meanwhile, Mrs. Inkpen ventured to address Mr. Squeezer, a man of prepossessing appearance, saying, tremulously,

Pray, sir, are you the Mister Squeezer in the legal profession in London ?'

'I am, madam.'

'Well, sir, would you be so kind as to tell me if you know one James Inkpen?'

Squeezer looked at her as though he would read her soul, and then relaxing his features into a professional smile, replied, 'Yes, I think I do. Is he a relation of yours?'

'Oh, sir! we were married yesterday, and, by a mischance on the railway, I have never set eyes on him since.'

'Humph!' said Squeezer; but at this moment the Bow Street officer came up, and said, 'Smith is certainly about here. We are on his track; for the other chap, Inkpen, is caged here.'

What's that you say,' shrieked Mrs. Inkpen.

husband in prison!'

'Speak!—my

Ma'am,' surlily and impudently observed the officer, looking at her as though she was a confederate.

Hush,' said Squeezer, laying his hand upon the officer's arm, and mildly taking the hand of Mrs. Inkpen, don't alarm yourself-step this way for a few minutes, this mystery may be cleared up.Jones,' said he, turning to the officer, search for Smith. Something assures me he is not far off.'

In a few words Mrs. Inkpen stated how she had won and how she had lost Inkpen; and on poor Inkpen's being introduced, what with joy at seeing his wife, and joy at seeing his master, whom he knew he could conscientiously convince of his innocence, he alternately wept and laughed. The scene was equally comic and affecting.

'Oh! sir,' at last he stammered, throwing himself on his knees to Mr. Squeezer, with what am I charged? I have never, never wronged you by word or deed.'

Why was that cheque not paid in on Saturday morning,' said Mr. Squeezer, gravely, which I gave you over night?'

Good God!' cried Inkpen, I see it all!-I forgot to lock my desk, and Smith must have taken it.'

We have ascertained that you were not the person who procured the cash for it,' said Mr. Squeezer, which looks somewhat, in your favour. But though I am sincerely sorry for your position, at present, until you more sufficiently exonerate yourself, I cannot allow you to be out of custody.'

Poor Inkpen sank trembling on a chair, the picture of death,-his wife falling on him in a fainting-fit. Mr. Squeezer was evidently affected, as he had always valued Inkpen. At this moment a noise was heard at the door of the station-house, and a happy change came o'er the scene by the Bow Street officer bringing in Mr. Smith, handcuffed, but looking very bold and reckless.

'As you thought, we have found Mr. Smith,' said Jones, 'not far off, Mr. Squeezer.'

Smith, at the sound of his master's name, turned to the quarter where he stood, and looked the picture of death, all his confidence forsaking him.

Villain!' said Inkpen, rushing at him, 'confess that you have plundered my desk, and save an innocent man.'

Smith,' said Mr. Squeezer, 'you know your course of guilt is now run-your character is well known to me. It will be better for you to

say whether what Inkpen says is true or not.'

The felon's boldness completely forsook him at his master's last remark; he knew the infamy of his past character, and that his hour was come. After a silence of a few seconds, he faltered out, 'Inkpen is innocent-I am alone the guilty man!'

The rest is soon told. Mr. Squeezer rejoiced to find that his favourite clerk had not forfeited his confidence, and extended his leave of absence for a week.