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of their evening repast, was startled by suddenly hearing the voice of Swayne whisper in her ear, "Quick to the place; the pirate bark has come up already: before the captain's second whistle we must be away.'
Even as he spoke, she heard the captain's voice calling to the men as they came up, "Out with the boats; take your places and make ready every man his weapons. Yonder is our vessel nearing fast her enemy; unless we are quickly alongside she will be their prize. But they may see us now. Fire them a signal and give them a cheer."
Hardly knowing what she did or whither she was hastening, Annie made her way, through briars and underwood, with tattered dress and bleeding feet, to the place pointed out by Swayne. Under shelter of a shelving bank, he had taken his place in the boat; and, the moment Annie seated herself, pushed off boldly to the river's channel.
"One is missing. Why does Comrade Swayne remain out of sight? Fifty silver pieces for his head. Hark! the sound of oars up Beaulieu river. Pursue-take or kill!"
The Captain had scarcely uttered, or rather foamed out this order, when several of the men darted along the river's bank in pursuit. They could just see the fugitives in the middle of the channel, making way fast with wind and tide in their favour, and yet more than one arrow passed over their heads. Suddenly there came booming over the sea a sound of cannon, at the same time that a bright light illumined sea and sky. The two ships were in close engagement. The robbers hastened back to their rendezvous, and Annie and her companion were safe. It was not, however, till they were more than three miles up river that Swayne ventured to rest upon his oars and
listen to the voice of his companion, who, with hands clasped and eyes turned heavenward, was pouring out her devout praise to Him Who had so wonderfully delivered them. It was a scene indescribably beautiful. They had reached the narrowest part of the river, where high embankments of embowering woods rose on either side, from which a chorus of nightingales broke the stillness of night in Annie's ears sweet as angel voices, telling out the love of GOD. The moon, two days beyond the full, had now risen slowly over the hills on their left, and poured a flood of glory on their way; while from the oars at every plash fell silvery drops, and sometimes made the rippling waters seem on fire. A little further on lights gleamed from a few cottages on the bank, and the musical chimes of Beaulieu Abbey joyfully announced their journey nearly done.
"We must make for those cottages," said Swayne: "Beaulieu is a strange place to come upon suddenly; so we can give up our boat to the charge of the people there, and take a shorter course on foot through the woods. The township is a sanctuary, so that even a redhand, if he but yields himself up, is safe there. And you, my little one, will find a home, wherever there are human eyes to see and Christian ears to hear. There, step firmly-your hand-and so you are on dry ground."
The Editor's Desk.
THE death of Dr. Mill is an event which will be felt wherever the Church has been planted. His loss is not local, but universal. In whatever situation he was placed, -whether as Principal of Bishop's College, Calcutta, as
Chaplain to the late Archbishop, as Professor in his own University of Cambridge, or as Rector of Brasted,-all the vast powers of his great mind were devoted to the service of the Church, and the maintenance of the Catholic Faith. He was not more remarkable for the extraordinary mental qualities which he possessed, than for his gentleness and amiability, and his readiness to advise or aid others. There are none, who ever applied to Dr. Mill, and failed to obtain his kindly counsel. On more than one occasion, we ourselves have been cheered on by the genial sympathy of him, whose mortal remains now lie in that beautiful cathedral he so much loved. On the day of interment, many came from afar to witness the remains of this great master in Israel deposited in their last resting-place. Most touching and affecting was the sight that was then witnessed in the Cathedral of Ely, as described by those who were present on the occasion.
"The funeral had been fixed for three o'clock in the afternoon, and long before that time a considerable number of the respectable inhabitants of Ely had taken their places in front of the chancel screen. A large list of gentlemen, who had come from a distance to the funeral, and who afterwards formed part of the procession, gathered immediately under the lofty lanterntower of the cathedral, where they waited the entrance of the bier within the sacred walls. Among those present, we observed the Rev. R. S. Gordon, Dr. Fisher, Downing Professor of Physic, Mr. C. J. Evans, Mr. Lindsay, Mr. G. J. R. Gordon, younger, of Elton, Mr. Butterfield, &c. As it had been arranged that the funeral service should be a choral one, the full choir of the cathedral were in waiting; and among the dignitaries of the cathedral were the Very Rev. Dr. Peacock, the Dean, and Canon Selwyn, the canon in residence. It was nearly half-past three when the body was slowly borne into the cathedral, by the south door; and, as the bearers passed the threshold, the organ sent forth a thrilling peal, and the choir chanted-in
strains that well-nigh matched the sublimity of the wordsthose sacred accents, I am the Resurrection and the Life.' Slowly moving along the nave,- -so slowly as to be scarcely perceptible, the rest of that mournfully sublime anthem was performed; and, as they entered the chancel, the lofty roof of the cathedral was ringing with the last echoes of Job's profound submission, 'The LORD gave and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.'
"The following was the order of procession :-First the choristers, then the lay-clerks, Precentor Henderson, the vergers, the Very Rev. the Dean, Canon Selwyn: after whom was borne the body, supported by the following pall-bearers-Canon Park, Canon Thompson, Regius Professor of Greek in Cambridge University, Rev. S. Smith, and Rev. W. K. Clay, minor canons, Rev. J. J. Blunt, Lady Margaret Professor of Divinity, and Rev. George Williams, Fellow of King's College, as representing the University; the Ven. Archdeacon Harrison, of Maidstone, and formerly co-chaplain with the deceased to the late Archbishop of Canterbury; and the Rev. E. Hawkins, secretary to the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, as representing that • venerable society, which with Dr. Mill was for so many years connected, as the First Principal of Bishop's College, Calcutta. After the body followed the family of the deceased, consisting of his widow, his daughter, his brother, and his son-in-law, and the servants of the family, who, we understand, were deeply attached to their master, and requested to be allowed to attend his remains to the grave. After these followed Dr. Crawford, M.D., Mr. Stephen, Mr. Maitland, Hon. Arthur Gordon, Rev.
Greatheed, Rev. H. L. Jenner, and Rev. R. F. Scott, Curate of Brasted. After these followed the long procession of mourners who were in waiting in the cathedral, who, forming behind those who had been more specially invited, followed the body into the chancel, while the great mass of the townspeople quietly waited outside the screen.
"When the whole procession had entered the chancel, and the body was placed in the centre, with the mourners right and left-when the Dean had taken his chair, and the Canons were disposed in their several stalls, that of the deceased forcibly re
minding all present of its vacancy by its black drapery-when all parties had taken their seats, and stillness was restored, the organ again burst forth in plaintive tones, and the choir chanted the Psalms xxxix., ' Dixi, custodiam,' and xc., ‘Domine, refugium.' Afterwards Canon Selwyn, in broken accents, read the lesson from the Epistle to the Corinthians, beginning with the declaration so consoling to Christian mourners, 'Now is CHRIST risen from the dead, and become the first fruits of them that slept.' When that lesson was completed, the procession was formed again, and moving forward in the same order as it entered the cathedral, proceeded up the altar steps, and then, turning to the left, passed through a space between two arches on the north side; and then, entering that part of the cathedral which is known as the Presbytery, it proceeded to the grave, which was made immediately behind the new altar-screen, a little to the south side of the building. Here the pall, a plain black cloth, with a large cross embroidered in red, was removed from the coffin, while the choir and the precentor gathered at the foot, the Dean and Chapter at the head of the coffin, the family of the deceased on the right, and the general body of mourners on the left. By this time the light of a cheerless mid-winter day had nearly departed, and candles were obliged to be procured for the remainder of the ceremony, which, throwing a pale, flickering light on the faces of the mourners and on the whitestoled Priests and choristers, as each stood out in strong relief against the lengthened shadows of the tall pillars, produced a striking and singular effect.
"As the corpse was made ready to be lowered into the vault, the wailing strains of the choir were again heard, proclaiming that-Man that is born of a woman hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery,' closing with the earnest cry-' Spare us, LORD most holy; O GOD most mighty, O holy and merciful SAVIOUR, Thou most worthy Judge Eternal, suffer us not at our last hour, for any pains of death, to fall from Thee.' The body was then lowered into the vault, and Canon Selwyn recited the declaration-Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God, of His great mercy, to take unto Himself the soul of our dear brother here departed, we therefore commit his body to the