scheme, and shall not be enlarged upon:  but (as will appear) thus slightly to allude to it was needful to our tale, as well as to the development of character in Mammon’s pattern-slave, and to the fullness of his due retribution in this world.  I may add, that if any thing could make the plan more heinous—­if any shade than blackest can be blacker—­this extra turpitude is seen in the true consideration, that the promise to Grace of her father’s safety would be entirely futile—­as Jennings knew full well; the crown was prosecutor, not he:  and circumstantial evidence alone would be sufficient to condemn.  Again, it really is nothing but bare justice to remark, with reference to Sir John, that the deep-dyed villain reckoned quite without his host; for however truly the baronet had oft-times been much less a self-denying Scipio than a wanton Alcibiades, still the fine young fellow would have flung Simon piecemeal to his hounds, if ever he had breathed so atrocious a temptation:  the maid was pledged, and Vincent knew it.

Now, it so happened that one evening at dusk, when Grace as usual was obliged to leave the prison, there was no Jonathan in waiting to accompany her all the dreary long way home:  this was strange, as his good-hearted master, privately informed of his noble attachment, never refused the man permission, but winked, for the time, at his frequent evening absence.  Nevertheless, on this occasion, as would happen now and then, Floyd could not escape from the dining-room; probably because—­Mr. Jennings had secretly gone forth to escort the girl himself.  Accordingly, instead of loved Jonathan, sidled up to her the loathsome Simon.

Let me not soil these pages by recording, in however guarded phrase, the grossness of this wretch’s propositions; it was a long way to Hurstley, and the reptile never ceased tormenting her every step of it, till the village was in sight:  twice she ran, and he ran too, keeping up with her, and pouring into her ear a father’s cruel fate and his own detestable alternative.  She never once spoke to him, but kept on praying in her own pure mind for a just acquittal; not for one moment would she entertain the wicked thought of “doing evil that good might come;” and so, with flushed cheek, tingling ears, the mien of an insulted empress, and the dauntless resolution of a heroine, she hastened on to Hurstley.

Look here! by great good fortune comes Jonathan Floyd to meet her.

“Save me, Jonathan, save me!” and she fainted in his arms.

Now, truth to say, though Sir John knew it, Simon did not, that Grace was Jonathan’s beloved and betrothed; and the cause lay simply in this, that Jonathan had frankly told his master of it, when he found the dreadful turn things had taken with poor Roger; but as to Simon, no mortal in the neighbourhood ever communicated with him, further than as urged by fell necessity.  Of course, the lovers’ meetings were as private as all such matters generally are; and Sarah’s aid managed them admirably.  Therefore it now came to pass that Simon and Jonathan looked on each other in mutual astonishment, and needs must wait until Grace Acton could explain the “save me.”  Not but that Jennings seemed much as if he wished to run away; but he did not know how to manage it.