THE YOUNG WANDERER'S CAVE; OR, THE INNOCENT PRISONER. "Every prisoner is considered innocent till he be proved guilty." English Law. B THE YOUNG WANDERER'S CAVE; OR, THE INNOCENT PRISONER. "How kind of my Uncle Hull, to invite me down to York!-wasn't it, Sarah ?" said Stephen Bancroft to his sister, as they were "minding the shop," in Bishopsgate-street. "Yes, and how good of him to send you two sovereigns to pay your journey!" replied Sarah. "How shall you travel-outside the York mail ?" Why, I've been thinking, that if I walk part of the way, this fine weather, and ride sometimes in a waggon, or anything of that sort,-that I shall go cheaper, and so be able to save some of the money; for father says he can't afford me another hat; and mine looks so shabby that I shall be ashamed to wear it in York ;-and then, you know, I can buy myself one directly I get therecan't I?" "A very good thought of your's, Stephen ;but then, do you know, I'm thinking that mother won't like you to walk all that way, nearly two hundred miles, without anybody with you; for-" 66 Why I should ride all that way without any one to take care of me, you goose !-Come, come, don't you say anything to my mother to frighten her, and she will let me walk, I know." "Oh no, I won't say a word;-how I wish I was going!-I wonder what sort of a girl my cousin is!-Let's see-Phoebe is my age, and John is nearly yours;-I wonder if they do anything in the business! I suppose, though, he is 'prenticed to my uncle, as you are going to be to father; I wish our trade was a cutler's too; its a great deal think genteeler than a shoemaker's !-When do you you shall come home again, Stephen? though we do quarrel so sometimes, I shall be very sorry while you are away!-But hark-mother is calling us to dinner; here comes father-I can see him through the green curtain ;-now, Stephen, you can ask leave to walk part of the way to York." The brother and sister then went into the little back parlour to dine, and while they ate their hasty meal, Stephen won his mother's consent to his own mode of journeying; so, on the next morning, the 15th of July, he found himself trudging merrily through Kingsland, on the great north road, before the sun had risen, or the daily smoke, from the thousands of chimnies, had obscured from his sight that immense mass of buildings which he had left behind. Sometimes riding, and sometimes walking, our happy hero, with his blue bundle of linen, reached Cambridgeshire, without any accident having befallen him, and we must leave him singing "I've been roaming," as he entered the little village of Paxton, near Biggleswade, where he intended to sleep that night-for we have to go back to London, in order that we may see the inside of a gaming-house in Oxford-street. In one of the rooms, then, which was closely shut up, although the sun was yet shining, there sat two men, with sharp, keen, hard faces, watch |