t, if you are that person, in all probability there is some
legacy bequeathed to you by a relative," replied Mr S---; "is it you?"

"Yes, sir," replied Rushbrook, changing colour; "I did once live at
Grassford."

"Then you had better write to the parties and make yourself known. I
will leave you the newspaper."

"What think you, Jane?" said Rushbrook, as soon as Mr --- had quitted.

"I think he is quite right," replied Jane.

"But, Jane, you forgot--this may be a trap; they may have discovered
something about--you know what I mean."

"Yes, I do, and I wish we could forget it; but in this instance I do not
think you have anything to fear. There is no reward offered for your
apprehension, but for my poor boy's, who is now wandering over the wide
world; and no one would go to the expense to apprehend you, if there was
nothing to be gained by it."

"True," replied Rushbrook, after a minute's reflection; "but, alas! I
am a coward now: I will write."

Rushbrook wrote accordingly, and, in reply, received a letter inclosing
a bank-bill for 20 pounds, and requesting that he would come to town
immediately. He did so, and found, to his astonishment, that he was the
heir-at-law to a property of 7,000 pounds per annum--with the only
contingency, that he was, as nearest of kin, to take the name of Austin.
Having entered into all the arrangements required by the legal
gentleman, he returned to Yorkshire, with 500 pounds in his pocket, to
communicate the intelligence to his wife; and when he did so, and
embraced her, she burst into tears.

"Rushbrook, do not think I mean to reproach you by these tears; but I
cannot help thinking that you would have been happier had this never
happened. Your life will be doubly sweet to you now, and Joey's absence
will be a source of more vexation than ever. Do you think that you will
be happier?"

"Jane, dearest! I have been thinking of it as well as you, and, on
reflection, I think I shall be safer. Who would know the poacher
Rushbrook in the gentleman of 7,000 pounds a year, of the name of
Austin? Who would dare accuse him, even if there were suspicion? I
feel that once in another county, under another name, and in another
situation, I shall be safe."

"But our poor boy, should he ever come back--"

"Will also be forgotten. He will have grown up a man, and, having
another name, will never be recognised: they will not even know what our
former name was."

"I trust that it w