Death finds us ' our playthings—snatches us,   As a cross nurse might do a wayward child,
  From all our toys and . His rough call
  Unlooses all our favourite ties on earth;
  And well if they are such as may be answer'd
  In yonder world, where all is judged of truly.
                                   Old Play.
It was a ghastly scene which opened, upon Martha Trapbois's return with a light. Her own haggard and features were exaggerated by all the desperation of grief, fear, and passion—but the latter was predominant. On the floor lay the body of the robber, who had expired without a , while his blood, flowing , had all around. Another body lay also there, on which the unfortunate woman herself in agony, for it was that of her unhappy father. In the next moment she started up, and exclaiming—“There may be life yet!” strove to raise the body. Nigel went to her assistance, but not without a glance at the open window; which Martha, as acute as if undisturbed either by passion or terror, failed not to interpret justly.
 
“Fear not,” she cried, “fear not; they are base cowards, to whom courage is as much unknown as mercy. If I had had weapons, I could have defended myself against them without assistance or protection.—Oh! my poor father! protection comes too late for this cold and stiff .—He is dead—dead!”
 
While she , they were attempting to raise the dead body of the old ; but it was evident, even from the feeling of the inactive weight and , that life had her station. Nigel looked for a wound, but saw none. The daughter of the deceased, with more presence of mind than a daughter could at the time have been supposed capable of exerting, discovered the instrument of his murder—a sort of scarf, which had been so tight round his throat, as to his cries for assistance, in the first instance, and afterwards to extinguish life.
 
She the fatal ; and, laying the old man's body in the arms of Lord Glenvarloch, she ran for water, for spirits, for essences, in the vain hope that life might be only suspended. That hope proved indeed vain. She his temples, raised his head, loosened his nightgown, (for it seemed as if he had arisen from bed upon hearing the entrance of the ,) and, finally, opened, with difficulty, his and closely- hands, from one of which dropped a key, from the other the very piece of gold about which the unhappy man had been a little before so anxious, and which probably, in the state of his mental , he was disposed to defend with as desperate energy as if its amount had been necessary to his actual existence.
 
“It is in vain—it is in vain,” said the daughter, desisting from her fruitless attempts to recall the spirit which had been effectually dislodged, for the neck had been twisted by the violence of the murderers; “It is in vain—he is murdered—I always knew it would be thus; and now I witness it!”
 
She then snatched up the key and the piece of money, but it was only to dash them again on the floor, as she exclaimed, “Accursed be ye both, for you are the causes of this deed!”
 
Nigel would have spoken—would have reminded her, that measures should be instantly taken for the pursuit of the murderer who had escaped, as well as for her own security against his return; but she interrupted him sharply.
 
“Be silent,” she said, “be silent. Think you, the thoughts of my own heart are not enough to distract me, and with such a sight as this before me? I say, be silent,” she said again, and in a yet sterner tone—“Can a daughter listen, and her father's murdered corpse lying on her knees?”
 
Lord Glenvarloch, however overpowered by the energy of her grief, felt not the less the of his own situation. He had discharged both his pistols—the robber might return—he had probably other assistants besides the man who had fallen, and it seemed to him, indeed, as if he had heard a muttering beneath the windows. He explained hastily to his companion the necessity of .
 
“You are right,” she said, somewhat contemptuously, “and have ventured already more than ever I expected of man. Go, and shift for yourself, since that is your purpose—leave me to my fate.”
 
Without stopping for needless expostulation, Nigel hastened to his own room through the secret passage, furnished himself with the ammunition he sought for, and returned with the same celerity; wondering himself at the accuracy with which he achieved, in the dark, all the meanderings of the passage which he had traversed only once, and that in a moment of such violent .
 
He found, on his return, the unfortunate woman like a statue by the body of her father, which she had laid straight on the floor, having covered the face with the skirt of his gown. She testified neither surprise nor pleasure at Nigel's return, but said to him calmly—“My moan is made—my sorrow—all the sorrow at least that man shall ever have noting of, is gone past; but I will have justice, and the base who murdered this poor defenceless old man, when he had not, by the course of nature, a twelvemonth's life in him, shall not the earth long after him. Stranger, whom heaven has sent to forward the revenge reserved for this action, go to Hildebrod's—there they are awake all night in their revels—bid him come hither—he is bound by his duty, and dare not, and shall not, refuse his assistance, which he knows well I can reward. Why do ye tarry?—go instantly.”
 
“I would,” said Nigel, “but I am fearful of leaving you alone; the villains may return, and—”
 
“True, most true,” answered Martha, “he may return; and, though I care little for his murdering me, he may possess himself of what has most him. Keep this key and this piece of gold; they are both of importance—defend your life if , and if you kill the villain I will make you rich. I go myself to call for aid.”
 
Nigel would have with her, but she had departed, and in a moment he heard the house-door clank behind her. For an instant he thought of following her; but upon recollection that the distance was but short betwixt the of Hildebrod and the house of Trapbois, he concluded that she knew it better than he—incurred little danger in passing it, and that he would do well in the meanwhile to remain on the watch as she recommended.
 
It was no pleasant situation for one unused to such scenes to remain in the apartment with two dead bodies, recently those of living and breathing men, who had both, within the space of less than half an hour, suffered violent death; one of them by the hand of the assassin, the other, whose blood still continued to flow from the wound in his throat, and to flood all around him, by the spectator's own deed of violence, though of justice. He turned his face from those wretched of mortality with a feeling of disgust, with ; and he found, when he had done so, that the consciousness of the presence of these ghastly objects, though unseen by him, rendered him more uncomfortable than even when he had his eyes fixed upon, and reflected by, the cold, staring, lifeless eyeballs of the deceased. Fancy also played her usual sport with him. He now thought he heard the well-worn damask nightgown of the deceased usurer ; anon, that he heard the bravo draw up his leg, the boot scratching the floor as if he was about to rise; and again he deemed he heard the footsteps and the whisper of the returned ruffian under the window from which he had lately escaped. To face the last and most real danger, and to parry the terrors which the other class of feelings were like to impress upon him, Nigel went to the window, and was much cheered to observe the light of several torches the street, and followed, as the of voices denoted, by a number of persons, armed, it would seem, with firelocks and halberds, and attendant on Hildebrod, who (not in his fantastic office of duke, but in that which he really of bailiff of the liberty and of Whitefriars) was on his way to inquire into the crime and its circumstances.
 
It was a strange and contrast to see these debauchees, disturbed in the very depth of their midnight , on their arrival at such a scene as this. They stared on each other, and on the work before them, with lack-lustre eyes; staggered with uncertain steps over boards slippery with blood; their noisy voices sunk into whispers; and, with spirits by what they saw, while their brains were still stupefied by the liquor which they had drunk, they seemed like men walking in their sleep.
 
Old Hildebrod was an exception to the general condition. That seasoned cask, however full, was at all times capable of motion, when there occurred a strong to set him a-rolling. He seemed much shocked at what he , and his , in consequence, had more in them of and , than he might have been supposed capable of exhibiting upon any occasion whatever. The daughter was first examined, and stated, with wonderful accuracy and distinctness, the manner in which she had been alarmed with a noise of struggling and violence in her father's apartment, and that the more readily, because she was watching him on account of some alarm concerning his health. On her entrance, she had seen her father sinking under the strength of two men, upon whom she rushed with all the fury she was capable of. As their faces were blackened, and their figures disguised, she could not pretend, in the hurry of a moment so dreadfully , to distinguish either of them as persons whom she had seen before. She remembered little more except the firing of shots, until she found herself alone with her guest, and saw that the ruffians had escaped. Lord Glenvarloch told his story as we have given it to the reader. The direct evidence thus received, Hildebrod examined the . He found that the villains had made their entrance by the window out of which the had made his escape; yet it seemed singular that they should have done so, as it was secured with strong iron bars, which old Trapbois was in the habit of shutting with his own hand at nightfall. He minuted down with great accuracy, the state of every thing in the apartment, and examined carefully the features of the robber. He was dressed like a of the lowest order, but his face was known to none present. Hildebrod next sent for an Alsatian surgeon, whose , what his skill might have done for him, had him to the wretched practice of this place. He made him examine the dead bodies, and make a proper declaration of the manner in which the sufferers seemed to have come by their end. The circumstances of the sash did not escape the learned judge, and having listened to all that could be heard or on the subject, and collected all particulars of evidence which appeared to bear on the bloody transaction, he commanded the door of the apartment to be locked until next morning; and carrying, the unfortunate daughter of the murdered man into the kitchen, where there was no one in presence but Lord Glenvarloch, he asked her gravely, whether she suspected no one in particular of having committed the deed.
 
“Do you suspect no one?” answered Martha, looking on him.
 
“Perhaps, I may, mistress; but it is my part to ask questions, yours to answer them. That's the rule of the game.”
 
“Then I suspect him who wore yonder sash. Do not you know whom I mean?”
 
“Why, if you call on me for honours, I must needs say I have seen Captain Peppercull have one of such a fashion, and he was not a man to change his suits often.”
 
“Send out, then,” said Martha, “and have him .”
 
“If it is he, he will be far by this time; but I will communicate with the higher powers,” answered the judge.
 
“You would have him escape,” resumed she, fixing her eyes on him sternly.
 
“By cock and pie,” replied Hildebrod, “did it depend on me, the murdering cut-throat should hang as high as ever Haman did—but let me take my time. He has friends among us, that you wot well; and all that should assist me are as drunk as fiddlers.”
 
“I will have revenge—I will have it,” repeated she; “and take you trifle not with me.”
 
“Trifle! I would sooner trifle with a she-bear the minute after they had baited her. I tell you, mistress, be but patient, and we will have him. I know all his haunts, and he cannot forbear them long; and I will have trap-doors open for him. You cannot want justice, mistress, for you have the means to get it.”
 
“They who help me in my revenge,” said Martha, “shall share those means.”
 
“Enough said,” replied Hildebrod; “and now I would have you go to my house, and get something hot—you will be but here by yourself.”
 
“I will send for the old char-woman,” replied Martha, “and we have the stranger gentleman, besides.”
 
“Umph, umph—the stranger gentleman!” said Hildebrod to Nigel, whom he drew a little apart. “I fancy the captain has made the stranger gentleman's fortune when he was making a bold dash for his own. I can tell your honour—I must not say lordship—that I think my having chanced to give the buff-and-iron scoundrel some hint of what I recommended to you to-day, has put him on this rough game. The better for you—you will get the cash without the father-in-law.—You will keep conditions, I trust?”
 
“I wish you had said nothing to any one of a scheme so absurd,” said Nigel.
 
“Absurd!—Why, think you she will not have thee? Take her with the tear in her eye, man—take her with the t............