'What an unfortunate evening we have had!' said Strale to Lyford, on their return home; 'every thing has gone wrong. Trellison was in the wrong place, the wine went the wrong way, and the earthquake came at the wrong time.'

'Hush, Walter; you speak too lightly on this latter point. All the trifles of the evening vanished from my mind when the earthquake voice of my Maker spoke to me of a coming judgment, and a crashing world. Why is it, Walter, that we think so little of our future destiny? Why do we build our hopes on a world we must leave so soon?'

'I know it is a fitting time to think, James,' said Strale; 'I would that sensible objects had less effect upon me; but so it is, Lyford, and I cannot help it. I thought more of my own misfortunes this evening than any thing else. Even the earthquake scarcely diverted my thoughts from that unfortunate overthrow, which I verily believe was caused by Trellison.'

'It is vain and foolish, Walter, to dwell upon such trifles. I am no enemy, as you well know, to social pleasures, but at such an hour as this, I am sorry your mind is not better occupied. It is now nearly midnight, the way is solitary, and its very silence seems to me ominous and impressive: these leafless trees, all nature hushed and dead, the voice which has just issued from the groaning earth,—all these speak to us of our mortality, warn us of the flight of time, and throw around us the dim figures and solemn images of a coming hereafter.'

'You are superstitious to-night, James. I do not mean to say your views in the main are not reasonable and right, but there is a tinge of melancholy in your language and manner, which is hardly natural. I wish to be as religious as you are, but not quite so grave, for gravity you know has little to do with my constitution. We are now nearly home, and when we get there I will converse with you on religion if you wish, but not exactly in this way.'

At this moment they entered a narrow turn in the road, which was lined on either side by a dense forest for nearly a mile; the large tangled bushes formed the only fence, and the way was so nearly open, that any one coming from the woods might enter it with little obstruction. The night was extremely dark, and not even a star was visible; the young travellers, however, were provided with a small lantern, which was a very important guide in this stage of their walk. A slight rustling in the woods had once or twice arrested the attention of James, who remarked that he could hardly account for it at that hour of the night, and at this season of the year.

'The wind may produce it,' said Strale; 'the imagination may produce it; and possibly, Lyford, the Salem witches may be dancing about in the woods. By the way, I wonder Cotton Mather said nothing about these rumors from Salem; he is just the man to believe them. Do you think it possible he knows nothing of the story?'

'Very possible, indeed; for it attracts very little notice, and is in fact very little known. Mr. Mather is inclined to superstition, but I hardly think he believes in ghosts and witches. I am quite sure his father would not sanction such folly, and the father and son are not much inclined to differ in opinion.'

'I have no very high opinion of Cotton Mather. He may be a good man; he is certainly forcible and impressive in the pulpit; and it is thought his rising greatness will soon eclipse that of his father; but in my belief Dr. Mather, if not a greater man, is a far better one, and the son, with all his eccentric brilliancy, can never rival the father. He is headstrong, violent, and intolerant. I hope the President will soon return, and keep his son from meddling with college affairs.'

'He will soon be here,' said Lyford; 'and in my opinion he will come the messenger of good to these colonies; he will obtain for this Puritan community from the Prince of Orange, what the bigotry and pride of the Stuarts would never grant. No man's return to Boston can be so welcome as that of Dr. Mather.'

The conversation was interrupted by a sound in the woods, resembling the tread of footsteps among the tangled bushes. Walter proposed to walk in the direction indicated by the noise, and ascertain if possible the cause. Lyford, however, objected, and thought it best not to separate; for a little of the superstition which such circumstances might readily occasion, had now affected the minds of both, but particularly that of Lyford. They walked silently along for a moment or two, when a sudden flash was seen, which was followed by a quick, sharp report, like that of a rifle, and the rustling of the bushes over the way indicated that they were torn and rent by a shower of lead. Another flash succeeded, when a shot struck the hand of Strale, and passed off into the neighboring woods.

'There are no witches here,' said Strale; 'there is too much cold lead to come from the gun of a witch; look at my hand, Lyford, and be thankful as I am it was not my head.'

'This is no time to look at heads or hands,' said Lyford, 'but to escape the loss of both, if we can'; and he instantly extinguished the lamp, and suppressing the voice of Walter, who was about to speak, they moved along as silently as possible, and in half an hour entered the college gate.

These singular events, following each other so rapidly, made a strong impression on the minds of both Strale and Lyford. It was impossible not to connect them in some shape with Trellison, and yet there was a boldness and audacity in the affair, which was hardly consistent with his reputation for caution and cunning. It was too late to do any thing about it that night, and after an examination of the wound of Strale, which proved very slight, a few simple remedies were applied, and they retired for such rest as the exciting scenes of the evening might allow.

The next day the story was rife in Cambridge, and a strong excitement was produced throughout the town. Trellison was at once suspected, and as his dislike to Strale was well known, a legal investigation was proposed, and immediately carried into effect; not, however, without a strong remonstrance from Walter and his friend, who were disposed to let the affair drop. A warrant was immediately issued for the apprehension of Trellison, but before it could be served, he was warned of the movements against him, and advised to make his escape. This he refused to do, and declared himself ready for immediate trial. Accordingly, when the officer appeared, he accompanied him to a magistrate, and the investigation proceeded in regular form.

All the evidence against Trellison was circumstantial, and rested mainly on two facts; one of these was his inveterate dislike of Strale, which, with all his caution, he had been unable to conceal; the other was the very late hour of his return, and his disturbed and agitated manner, which was remarked by several persons, as soon as he entered his lodgings. In his defence, he stated very forcibly his objections to the first branch of evidence, declaring that nothing less than madness could prompt even an enemy to a kind of revenge which was so rash, and must recoil so soon on the aggressor. He explained the lateness of his return by saying that he walked with one of the young ladies for nearly half an hour before he left Boston, and on taking his leave, he came home on the public road, and was himself surprised, on his arrival, at the lateness of the hour.

The magistrate demanded the name of the young lady, as her evidence might be important in the case.

Trellison replied, that he should give it with reluctance, but would do it, if the requirement was mandatory.

The magistrate repeated the question, and insisted on a prompt reply.

'The name of the lady,' said Trellison, 'is Miss Graham.'

Walter started at this annunciation, and the blood rushed to his face; but he recovered himself in a moment, and the sudden flush escaped the notice of all excepting Trellison.

The magistrate thought it necessary to send for Miss Graham, and ordered that Trellison should be held in custody till the next day, when Miss Graham's evidence would be taken, and all the parties should have a fair hearing.

Strale and Lyford now requested that Trellison might be liberated on his own bail. They also stated the complaint had been made against their wishes, and they believed the evidence was such as did not warrant his committal. But the magistrate immediately ordered Trellison to prison, and rebuked the young students for meddling with his official duties. The public feeling was very strong against Trellison, and scarcely any doubt remained, that on the next day he would be convicted of an aggravated assault, with intent to murder.

At this stage of the business, to the surprise of all, two young men, members of college, appeared and declared themselves the parties in fault. They stated, that having been in Roxbury the preceding afternoon on a shooting excursion, they had taken supper at an inn on their way home, and after supper several persons came in, and the evening was occupied in card-playing and wine-drinking; the wine proved too strong for them, so much so as to make them wholly unconscious of the earthquake, the news of which surprised them, the next day. On their return home at a late hour, they saw a long distance behind them a light, which they supposed proceeded from the lantern of some members of college. They had now partially recovered from the effects of the wine, and on seeing this light, they resolved to play off a joke, and accordingly went into the neighboring woods and waited till the students came up; they then fired successively, aiming at the bushes a few rods in advance of the travellers. The guns were loaded with buckshot only, but they supposed the unsteadiness of their aim proceeded from the fumes of wine, and on hearing Strale remark that his hand was wounded, and seeing him by the light of the lantern hold it up to his companion, they feared the joke had been carried too far, and after waiting till the road was still, they went home.

This relation established the innocence of Trellison beyond all doubt, and very much to the annoyance of several officious individuals who had prejudged the case, and fully believed in his guilt. Walter and Lyford shared too in the awkwardness and confusion that followed. All they could do was to make a full apology, and express their deep regret at the course which had been taken. Trellison bowed haughtily, but in such a manner as to show that the offence would not readily be forgiven. The two young men who had made confession, were held to bail for subsequent examination, and the parties soon after dispersed.