a v. a .- 2., q,

—— , j J. _— n.

_- s

AND SEMI-WEEKLY ADVERTISER.

vOL. ll. NO. 43.

5-» , """" ‘ ' “ ‘-———~.—_.--_ DEVOTED T0 GENERAL tN l‘ELLlGENCE, LITERATURE.&c.

ClIAltLO’l‘TE'I‘OWN, PRINCE EDWARD'ISEitND, JANUARY 20. 1845.

NEUTRAL IN LOCAL POLITICS AND mandala-f-

PRICE ONE PENNY.

MOON’S PHASES.

JANUARY.

( but Quarter, lst day. llh. 1m morn

. New Moon, 8th day, 2h. 68m mom

, rim Quarter, 15th day, 4h. 86m mom, 0 Full Moon, 3“ day. 10h. 6m mom.

( LsstQasrtar, 80th day, 9h. 4! to. mom

M AI L8.

The Mails by the Southern route to Be. aqua, Cape Traverse. 'l‘ryon River. are use speveryMondsy morning at Ioo’cleck. l'wt. Maser, Courier.

The Eastern Mails to Bay Fortune. Fair- ﬁetd, Mount Pleasant, '10. 41, St. Margarets. 8t.l’sters, Sonia-every Wednesde morn- lagst to o’clock—Par. Feature, ourisr.

11. Western Mails to Bed ee. Casctttn- psc.Csvendish. Bgmont Bay, t 16, New Glasgow. New London, Park Corner. Port Hill, Prince Town, St. Eleonora, Tignish, Traveller’s Rest —every'l‘hursday morningat 10 o'cloek.—thttann BAGNALL, Courier.

The Southern Mails to George Town- Wednesday and Saturday mornings at 8 o’- clock. 'l‘o Belfast. Murray Harbour, Vernon River, White Sands—ever Saturday atS o'clock, a. u.—S.usus:t. .ANE, Courier.

"7» oer}th a TAL s s.-

PLOT AND COU NTERPLOT.

Concnunsn.

Now, the mdiden aunt thought,was ltertime for action. She had set her heart ttppn the marriage of her niece to Mr. ormouse, and she was de- termined to compass that event by one means or other. As to the gen- tleman himself, he was perfectly eon- tent and passive: he submitted him- selftothe guidance of the ancient maiden entirely. The latter omitted to opportunity ofexpatiating, before Mary,on the wealth and consequence of her fattourite and on the happi- ness that must accrue from a prudent marrtage. Sometimes Mary laughed tndrallied her aunt on the great af- fectton she appeared to have conceiv- ed for Mr. Dormouse: at other times, When the prudent old lady thought ﬁt to make matrimony her theme, a blush was perceptible on the cheek ol' the younger maiden, which the other, sanguine in her expectations “I success, interpreted in favour of lter own wishes. Now, Mary Mo- “tawny, be it known, had never exhtbtted the slightest visible mark 0f preference for either of the gentle- men who were such constant visitors

_ symptom of " It ts true, she took the not Charles Moore on the terrace, “‘ it Was, as her father remarked. 0kpause he offered it. Latterly the

"d! had began to draw more fa- Wltat she

' mg. Asthe time drew near ‘? YOU": Moore might be expect- . 0 return, she determined to m . to aresult. Accord- “ é-(be tt remembered she had tak- lm :trhole. conduct of affairs upon “'5'! Idaho stand a favourable oppor- w Mi. Ind boldly made, in the name . -“ ease, a declaration of hm“ offered that gentleman’s mi“. td not venture to say, A“ fortune to Mary’s escap-

.. .— 5 3e - ~ - 0 -e .

'tance. The latter was taken by sur- ttold you were the wishes of your fa- prtse. The energy of lter aunt’s ‘ ther.’

: manner as she urged compliance with

'I do not wish to be disrespectful,’

her wishes, and the singularity of replied she, ' but it is better that I

such an appeal seemed to her irre- shouldtell you at once. No power usttbly comtcal, and the only reply on earth shall compel me to marry

she .made was a smothered ﬁt of .merrtment. The old lady, who knew

,butlittle of the real disposition of}

Mr. Dormouse!’ ' Well done, girl!’ exclaimed her father. laughing in his peculiarly

' her niece, mistook this for an indies-t hilarious way, ‘ you speak boldly,

'tion of maiden diﬂidence, she pro-f

ceeded more boldly to insinuate. that' a rectprocation of feeling would ac-

cord strongly with the wishes oft her father. The whole manner of; the younglady changedza ﬂush over- i getically.

‘spread her features as she asked“ t‘ Does my father really wish that l i

should merry Mr. Dormouse ?’ ' ‘he :

aunt replied, hesitatingly, in the ef- ﬁrmative. Mary sat in silence for a

but the matter is decided upon. A

post-chaise will be here at

to go away with—’

' With whom?’ said she, ‘ \Vith Mr. Dormouse ? I will suffer death ﬁrst! Oh! sir, I

beg—’ The poorgirl could proceed,

no further—emotion chocked her utterance.

The merchant took the hand ofhis

few moments, and then got up and I daughter, and looked inquirineg in

'quitted the room without utteringa her face.

' Mary,’said he, ‘ l have

syllable. Her aunt. hotrever,obscrv- received a letter from Mr. Moore - ed, that her eye beamed with more i The business is settled, and lte will

than usual lustre, and that her face ; be here in an hour,’ She was .

,wns sttﬂitsed with crimson. now convinced.that the young lady was really in love with Mr. Dormouse, and so elated was she with this no-f tion that she at once determined on} bringing the affair to a conclttsion by i one bold measure. She hastened to i Mr. Dormouse and communicated her instructions. I

Three davs had passed away. It. was on a Thursday, about noon, that Mr. Moneypenny was sitting in ltis ofﬁce. A conﬁdential servant, who acted the parts of va‘et and footman hastily entered the rootn. Such ser- vants were then more common than now.

‘ Well,’ said the merchant, ‘ have you kept a good look out? Some news, I see.’

‘ l have dtscovmed all,sir,’ said the man. ‘ Such a plot? You know Mr. Sutton, of the Nag’s Head. Well, he keeps post horses. My brother Bob is head-groom there. He’s been taking some Wine. with me in the pan- try, snd he’s told me all about it.— Miss Julia, your sister, air, has got Mr. Moneypenny. ‘ When- how?’

' Stop, sir. They have not gone yet, but listen. Miss Julia wants it to be done in a httrry, because she’s persuaded my young mistress that you want her to marry him and, as she thinks Miss Mary likes Mr. Dor- mouse, she fancies, if she gets her ottt ofthe way and married to him, before you know any thing about it, it’ll be all right. Post-horses is or— dered, and Miss is to be enticed into the chaise at ﬁve o’clock, and then Mr. Dormouse ’ll carry her away.and explain matters as he goes along.’

‘ Capital!’ exclaimed Mr.Money- penny, bursting ittto a loud laugh.— ‘ My sister is an excellent plotter. I have no objection to Mary being carried off and married, but, as I am her father, I shall lend my assistance.’

The man was dismissed, with di- rections to continue his observations. The merchant stepped out of his of- ﬁceinto his house, for the buildings joined each others. He immediately sought his daughter. She was sitting in her own apartment, and, as he en- tered, he observed that she was in deep thought. He commenced the conversation.

‘ You did right, dear Mary,’ said he, ‘ to infortn me of the communi- cation rnado by your aunt, though

you have done wrong in expressing to me such an obstinate determina-

Tlte young lady looked up inquirineg in her turn.

‘Listen!’ said the merchant. ‘ Your aunt has decided that you should marry Mr. I) vrm'utse. You have already set aside my authority, so, of course, I have no rigltt to interfere. It has been aranged between the two. that you are to be ﬁrst carried off, attd then asked to consent. Ihave told you of the plot, and you object. Now, what say you, suppose Charles Moore were to be your companion, would you still object?’

Mary blushed. There was stills glistening tear in lter eye. But she smiled. and, before she could speak, her father exclaimed, ‘ I see how it is: I knew you ‘s ould decide correct- ly!’He kissed her cheek, and left her.

In less than a hour after the above dialogue had taken place, Charles Moore entered the private ofﬁce where the merchant was sitting, deeply pon- dering over a huge ﬁle of papers.

‘ Welcome, boy,’ exclaimed he, ‘you havejust arrived in the nick of time, for, if I am not mistaken, you will have to commence another jour~ ney almost immediately, and you must make haste, or, perhaps, Dor— mouse will be beforehand with you.’

‘ That he won’t, said the youth, laughing. ‘ He is too slow to keep pace with me. But what is the busi- ness?’

Mr. Moneypenny arose, and clos- ed tlte door. What the precise cott- versation was we know not. The merchant and the youth, however, left the ofﬁce together, the former lauglting with high glec,and the latter with his eyes sparkling with pleasure, his cheek ﬂushed, but his whole frame evincing intense internal agi- tation and anxiety.

The World Would pronounce me mad,’ said the merchant. ‘to assist a young man to rttn away with my own daughter. But I would willingly cir- cumvent Madame Julia, and disap- point that booby just as they think that their scheme is ripe. Away and see Mary, and my life on it you persuade her to consent.’

How far the father was right in his prognostications we leave the

ﬁve, o’clock, and it is settled that you are'

ener- .

reader to discover. It was about four o‘clock when young Moore was ﬂying across the ﬁeld that lay be- tween Launcelot’s-hey and Old-hall- street, in the direction of the Nag’s Head. He returned soon alter, with

tion to go in opposition to what she an air of disappointment. He met the

merchant at the door, and informed him, that not a horse was to be had. ‘Dormouse,’said he, ‘ltas taken his measures well. Roger Bradshaw has only four posters, and they have been engaged by my rival, and all the Talbot horses have been sent forward to Ormskirk, as a relay. W'hat is to be done? I have it,’ said he: ‘most excellent! The chaise is to be drawn up on the beach, under the church wall. Farewell, sir, and God bless you.’

‘God bless thee, my boy.’ said the merchant. ‘I know than will behave kindly to my dear girl. I have trust- ed thee,perhaps, I am foolishly trust- ing thee, bttt I place conﬁdence in thine honour. Farewell!’ The youth bounded from his side, in the direction ofthe church.

Moore was scarcely out of sight, when Miss Julia Moneypenny, the elder, accompanied by her niece, issued front the portals of the man- sion ‘Mnry and l,’ said the ancient maiden, ‘are going to take the air.— Mayhap we shall take a ride together with Mr. Dormouse. I hear that Mr Moore is waiting for you in the draw- ing-room, where have ordered re- freshments, which he must need af- ter his journey. Go to him, brother, and see that he is hospitany enter- taitted.’

‘ Take care of thyself, Mary,’ said the father, not heeding the manoeu- vre of his sister to get him out of the way. ' Bless thee, my love !’ whispered he, as he stooped to kiss her cheek. The maiden drew her veil over her face, and suffered her- self to he conducted by her aunt.

The latter led her niece in the di- rection ofthe church. When they turned the corner, and got on the sand, they were joined by Dormouse, who entreated them to take a drive ot'a few miles along the shore, in a chaise which he had provided for the purpose of taking an airing. ‘ I am sure,’ said the old lady, ‘ neither I nor my niece can have any objec- tion. I shall be delighted to have a drive along the sands.’ The post- boy stood with the open door in his hand. Mary entered, and her aunt, looking intothe chaise,said, ‘I think, dear,there is scarcely mom for three. You and M r. Dormouse will go alone, and I shall expect you home to sup- per. Quick, get in, Mr. Dor- mouse.’

llormouse was about to obey, but a strong arm grasped his, and he was swung spinning to a considerable dis- tunce before he knew where hetwas. Moore who had already bribed the postboys, jumped into the chaise,the door was banged to. aml the"on sprang to his saddle like lightning.— ‘Drive on!’exclaimed Moore. The whips and spurs were immediately itt requisition, and the sleek steeds gal- loped away lightly over the soft stand in the direction of Rootle, leaving the spinster and her chop-fallen compa- nion in utter consternatioa.

We have not space to describe what immediately ensued. Sufﬁce it to say, that the youth and maiden did not proceed to Gretna. but were married, by special license, on the following day, at the Parish Church OfOrmskirlt. On the ensuing Sun- day, when the gallant Major proudly

resented Mary to her aunt as Mrs. Moore, the merchant laughing in his peculiar manner. said, to the morti- ﬁed spinstor, ‘ Did I not tell you,tltat Mary would choose with judgment."

,,A_.‘_ i: