"Not know you!-Oh, Carl, Carl!" and she looked at him with a reproachful smile. The student stared at her in silence.

"Lady, I am bewildered! I know not where I am, nor how I came hither! Yet, blessed be Heaven, that I have thus seen you. I could die with your image in my eye! It would pass me to heaven! Oh, forgive me, lady, knowing that I rave! Your beauty maddens me! I sink-I die beneath it! I know not, nor can control, what my tongue utters! The only thing I know is, that I am unworthy of you--" gasped Carl, dropping his head upon his bosom.

Then, Carl, is my love for you the greater, seeing it can overlook all unworthiness! But, dear Carl, why speak I thus? You are not unworthy-no, no! You are of great wit-graceful, noble-in a word,

I

"Speak, lady! speak, speak! Delay not! I faint-I die!" murmured the impassioned student.

"Well, I love you, Carl! I have long loved you, since first my eye fell on you. Pardon the schemeHere the lady became inarticulate with agitation. A long pause of mutual trepidation and embarrassment ensued. Each cast but furtive glances at the other; the conscious colour went and came alternately, in the cheeks of either.

Carl, still bending on his knee, gently strove to disentangle the hand which lay concealed beneath the folds of her veil. He succeeded, feeble as was the force he used; but the hand was still enveloped in the folds of a long white glove.

"May I not kiss these fair fingers but through a glove?" enquired Carl, fondly, and with returning selfpossession.

Why, you are truly of a sudden grown chivalrous as an old knight," replied the lady, in a tone of subdued gaiety; "but since such is your ambitious fancy, why should I refuse you so small a favour, who can refuse you nothing? So, here is my right hand, Sir Knight. What wouldst

thou ?"

She disengaged the hand on which her head had been leaning, and gave

it to Carl, who smothered the taper fingers with kisses. Infatuated with sudden unaccountable passion, Carl, in a sort of frenzy, started from his knee, threw his arm around the sylph-like figure of the lady, and imprinted a long, clinging, half-returned kiss upon her soft lips!

He had neither time nor inclination to reflect on what he was doingon the unaccountable freedom of his behaviour to a lady evidently of the highest consideration, with whom he had had-and that in the most unsatisfactory and mysterious manneronly a few minutes' acquaintance. In vain did he strive to calm and settle his unsteady faculties, or sober himself into a consciousness of his real situation-of how he came thither-and how had come to pass the astounding events of the evening. He forgot all his harrowing suspicions of inquisitorial diablerie; he thought no more of the possibility that his frantic feats were the subjects of suppressed laughter to invisible powers! Every thing merged into his intense consciousness of present pleasure. He yielded to the irresistible impulse of his feelings, blind and indifferent to consequences.

""Tis all owing to the wine I drunk in the supper-room!" thought Carl; but, alas, how little did he know of the important events with which he had got extraordinarily implicated; of the principle and subtle influence which was at work preparing for him scenes of future change and suffering!

A few minutes' time beheld Carl pacing slowly up and down the spacious chamber, supporting his beautiful and mysterious companion, watching with ecstasy her graceful motions, and pouring into her ear the impassioned accents of love; not, however, without an occasional flightiness of manner, which he could neither check nor disguise. When he listened to the dulcet melody of her voice, which fell on his ear like the breathings of an Æolian harp; when he observed her dove-like eyes fixed fondly upon him; and felt the faint throbbings of her heart against the hand that supported her, he al most lost all consciousness of treading among the lower realities of life.

Whilst Carl was thus delightful ly occupied, his companion sudden

ly turned aside her head, and to Carl's amazement and alarm, burst into a flood of tears. Burying her face in the folds of her veil, she began to weep bitterly. "For mercy's sake, dear lady, tell me what ails you!" enquired the startled student. He repeated his question; but in vain. His reiterated questions called forth no other answer than sobs and tears.

"Lady! dear, beloved lady-why are you bent on breaking my heart? Have I then so soon grown unworthy in your eyes?" again enquired Carl, a little relaxing the arm that supported her, as though grieved and mortified at her reserve.

"Oh Carl, Carl! Indeed you are most worthy of my love, of all my confidence; but you cannot help me! No, no-I am undone! Lost, lost, lost for ever!" replied the lady, in heart-breaking accents.

Carl begged, entreated, implored, to be made acquainted with the cause of her agitation, but in vain. His thoughts (alas, what is man ?) began to travel rapidly from "beauty in tears," to beauty in sullens ;" and commiseration was freezing fast into something like anger, or rather contempt.

"Lady, if you think me thus unworthy to share your grief-to be apprized of its source-that so I may acquit myself, I-I-I cannot stay to see you in sufferings I may not alleviate! I must-yes, I must leave you, lady-if it even break my heart!” said Carl, with as much firmness as he could muster. She turned towards him an eye that instantly melted away all his displeasure-a soft blue eye glistening through the dews of sorrow-and swooned in his

arms.

Was ever mortal so situated as Carl, at that agitating moment? Inexpressibly shocked, he bore his lovely, but insensible burden to the window; and thinking fresh air might revive her, he carried her through the door, which opened on the narrow terrace as before mentioned. While supporting her in his arms, and against his shaking knees, and parting her luxuriant hair from her damp forehead, he unconsciously dropped a tear upon her pallid features. She revived. She smiled with sad sweetness on her agitated supporter, with

slowly returning consciousness, and passed her soft fingers gently over his forehead. As soon as her strength returned, Carl led her gently a few paces to and fro on the terrace, thinking the exercise might fully restore her. The terrace overlooked, at a height of about sixty feet, an extensive and beautifully disposed garden; and both Carl and his mysterious companion paused a few moments to view a fountain underneath, which threw out its clear waters in the moonlight, like sparkling showers of crystal. How tranquil and beautiful was all before them! While Carl's eye was passing rapidly over the various objects before him, he perceived his companion suddenly start. Concern and agitation were again visible in her features. She seemed on the point of bursting a second time into tears, when Carl, once more, with affectionate earnestness, besought her to keep him no longer in torturing suspense, but acquaint him with the source of her sorrows.

"Lady, once more I implore you to tell me whence all this agony ?" She eyed him steadfastly and mournfully, and replied, "A loss, dear Carl-a fearful-an irreparable loss."

"In the name of mercy, lady, what loss can merit such dreadful names?" enquired the student, shocked at the solemnity of her manner, and the ashy hue her countenance had assumed. She trembled, and continued silent. Carl's eyes were more eloquent than his lips. Seeing them fixed on her with intense curiosity and excitement, she proceeded:

"It is a loss, Carl, the effects of which scarce befits mortal lips to tell. It were little to say, that unless it be recovered, a crowned head must be brought low!" She shuddered from head to foot. Carl's blood began to trickle coldly through his veins, and he stood gazing at his companion with terrified anxiety.

"Carl!" continued the lady, in a scarcely audible murmur, "I have been told to-day-how shall I breathe it!-by one from the grave, that you were destined to restore to me what I have lost-that you were Heaven's chosen instrument-that you alone, of other men, had rightly studied the laws of spiritual being-could com

mand the services of EVIL SPIRITS," she continued, fixing a startling glance on Carl, who quailed under it. Lady, pardon me for saying it is false, if it has been so slanderously reported to you of me; aye, false as the lips of Satan! I know nought of spirits-nought of hereafter, but through the blessed Bible," replied Carl, in hurried accents, a cold perspiration suddenly bedewing him from head to foot. His feelings began to revolt to recoil from his companion-whom he could not help suddenly likening to the beautiful serpent that beguiled Eve; but she twined her arms closely around him, and almost groaned in heart-moving accents, "Oh Carl, Carl! that I might but tell you what I have heard of you, or rather what I KNOW of you!"

There had been something very terrible in her demeanour, latterly. She seemed speaking as if of set purpose, and her eye was ever alive, probing Carl's soul to see the effect of what she uttered. At least so Carl thought. All his apprehensions about the hideous Inquisition revived, and with tenfold force. Was this subtle and beautiful being one of THEIR creatures? A fiend, cunningly tutored to extract his soul's secret, and then betray him into the fiery grasp of torture and death?

It was long before he could speak to her. At length he exclaimed," For mercy's sake, lady, tell me what frightful meaning lurks beneath what you say? What is your loss? What do you know, or have heard, of ME? Tell me, though I should expire with terror!"

"Can you, then, bear a secret to the grave, unspoken ?" she enquired, gazing at him with an expression of melancholy and mysterious awe.

"Did Thurialma appear again?" The student turned ghastly pale, and almost dropped her from his

"None! none !" murmured the student, a mist clouding his eyes; for, at the moment of his companion's uttering the words last mentioned, he had distinctly seen a human face peering over the edge of the terrace.

He shook like an aspen-leaf, shivering under the midnight wind. "What have you lost?" he enqui

red.

"The fellow to THIS," replied the lady, drawing off the glove from her left hand, and disclosing a bracelet the very counterpart of that in Carl's possession. His brain reeled;-he felt choked.

"What-what of him-that-hath its fellow?" He faltered, sinking on one knee, unable to sustain the burden of his companion.

"He is either a sorcerer, a prince, or a murderer!" replied the lady, in a hollow broken tone.

Carl slowly bared his shaking arm, and disclosed the bracelet gleaming on his wrist. He felt that in another moment he must sink senseless to the earth; but the lady, after glaring at the bracelet, with a half-suppressed shriek, and an expanding eye of glassy horror, suddenly sprung from him, and fell headlong over the terrace, at the very edge of which they had been standing.

Ha-accursed, damned traitor !" yelled a voice close behind him, followed by a peal of hideous laughter. He turned staggeringly towards the quarter from which the sounds came, and beheld the old man who had given him the bracelet, and now stood close at his elbow, glaring at him with the eye of a demon, his hands stretched out, his fingers curved like the cruel claws of a tiger, and his feet planted in the earth as if with convulsive effort.

"Thrice accursed wretch !" repeated the old man, in a voice of thunder; " what have you done? Did not her highness tell you who you were?"

"Tell me!-what?"

The old man suddenly clasped Carl by the wrist covered with the bracelet; his features dilated with fiendish fury; his eyes, full of horrible lustre, glanced from Carl to the precipice, and from the precipice to Carl.

"Tell me !-what?" again gasped the student, half dead with fright,

striving in vain to recede from the edge of the terrace. The hand with which the old man clasped Carl's wrist, quivered with fierce emotion. "Tell me". once more murmured Carl-" What did she say ?" "BAA!" roared his tormentor, at the same time letting go Carl's wrist, and, slipping over the edge of the terrace, he was out of sight in an instant-leaving Carl Koëcker BROAD AWAKE, and in darkness, for he had broken his lamp, and overthrown both chair and table. His fire had

In a neat and comfortable cottage in the picturesque village of Bastock, lived a middle-aged gentleman of the name of Samuel Holt. The clean white paling in front of the beautiful little flower-garden before his door shewed he was a man of taste, while the coach-house and stables at the side shewed that he might also be considered a man of fortune. He was in truth in very comfortable circumstances. He had a considerable quantity of land-let to a respectable tenant, for he himself knew nothing about farming-and the rest of his property consisted in about fifteen thousand pounds, which was lent on mortgage to a very wealthy baronet. Mr Holt might have altogether somewhere about a thousand a-year. He spent it in the true style of old English hospitality. His house was never empty; friends, when they came, were so kindly treated, that they found it extremely inconvenient to go away;-and what with coursings in the morning, comfortable dinners, pleasant companions, and extraordinary port-wine, Mr Samuel Holt was the happiest fellow in the world. His outward man was in exact correspondence to his internal tranquillity. He was stout, but not unwieldy; there was not a wrinkle on his brow; a fine open expression animated his countenance, and there was such a glorious ruddy hue of health upon his cheek, that his friends talked of him by no other name than Rosy Sam. "Well, my boys," said Rosy Sam, one fine September evening after dinner, "we'll drink our noble selves I don't think I ever shot better in my life."

"Your second bird was beautifully managed," said Jack Thomson; "I never saw any gun carry so far except once in Turkey, when the Reis Effendi shot a sea-mew at a hundred and fifty yards."

"With a long bow I suppose," said Rosy Sam, who disbelieved every story, the scene of which was not laid in England.

"No, with a long brass gun which went upon wheels."

Well, well," replied Sam, "it may be all very true; but, thank God, I never saw, and never expect to see, any of them foreign parts.”

"You may live to see half the world yet; and if I were inclined to be a prophet, I should say you will be a very great traveller before you die."

"I'd sooner be tried for murder."

"You may be both."

This last was said so solemnly that Rosy Sam almost changed colour. He passed it off with a laugh, and the conversation went on upon other subjects connected with Thomson's travels. All the evening, however, the prophetic announcement seemed to stick in poor Sam's throat, and when the party was about to separate for the night, holding the bed-candle in his hand, and assuming a degree of gravity which can only be produced by an extra bottle, he said, "I'll tell you what it is, Jack, here in this cottage have I lived, man and boy, for two-and-forty years. I never was out of the county in my life, and the farthest from home I ever was, was three-and-thirty miles. If you mean to say that I am to be a traveller in

my old age, the Lord have mercy on me, for a helpless dog should I be among the foreignarians-fellows that can't speak a word of English to save their souls, poor devils-but poh! poh! man, you can't be serious." "I am serious as a bishop, I assure You will travel for several you. years."

"Poh! nonsense! I'll be d-d if I do so, good-night." The party laughed at Sam's alarm; and retired to bed.

All that night Sam's dreams were of ships and coaches. He thought he was wrecked and half drowned, then that he was upset and had his legs broken by the hind wheel. He woke in a tremendous fright, for he fancied he was on the top of one of the pyramids, and could not get down again. He thought he had been on the pinnacle for several days, that he was nearly dying of thirst and hunger, and, on starting up, he found it was time to rise; so he hurried down stairs with the utmost expedition, as he was nearly famished for his breakfast. He was met at the breakfast parlour door by his old servant, Trusty Tommy, who gave him a letter, and said, "This here letter is just come from Mr Clutchit the attorney. His man says as how there must be an answer immediately, so I was just a comin' up to call ye."

"You would have found me knocking about the pyramids," said Rosy Sam, as he proceeded to open the letter.

"Fie for shame!" muttered old Trusty, "to make use of such an expression. Ah! as good Mr Drawline says"

"Devil take you and Mr Drawline -Saddle the Curate this instant, and tell the gentlemen, when they come down, that I am forced to set off on business, but that I shall certainly be back to dinner."

In the utmost haste, and with no very pleasant expression, he managed to swallow three or four eggs, nearly a loaf of bread, and half a dozen cups of tea. His horse was soon at the door; he set off at a hand gallop, and left old Trusty Tommy with his mouth open, wondering what in the world it could be that induced his master to such unusual expedition. The motive was indeed a serious one. Mr Clutchit had disovered that there was a prior mort

gage over the estate upon which poor Sam's fifteen thousand was advanced, and their great object now was to get the mortgage transferred to some unincumbered security. The seven miles which intervened between the lawyer and his client were soon passed over. Hot and breathless our poor friend, who was now more rosy than ever, rushed into the business-room of Mr Clutchit. That gentleman, however, was nowhere to be found. On his table Sam saw a note directed to himself-he opened it, and found the following words: "Dear sir,-By the strangest good luck I have this moment heard that Sir Harry is at present in London. I lose not a moment, as the coach is just starting, to obtain an interview with him there, and should strongly recommend your following by the eleven o'clock coach. Indeed your presence is indispensably necessary. I shall only have the start of you by two hours. Your obedient servant, J. C."

Sam threw himself into a chair in an agony of grief and wonder.

"That infernal fellow Jack Thomson," he moaned out, " is certainly more than human. They say they learn wonderful things abroad. He has learned the second sight. Little did I think two days ago, that I should ever have to hurry so far away from home. London must be seventy miles off at least-oh lord! oh lord! quite out of my own dear countywhat is to become of me !"

While indulging in this moralizing fit the coach drove up to the doorSam mounted, almost unconscious of what he did, and was whirled off before he had time to recover from his reverie. On arriving in London, night was rapidly closing in. The house where the coach stopt was a very neat comfortable sort of hostelry in the city, and our honest friend, before proceeding to any other business, solaced himself with the best dinner the bill of fare would allow. After refreshing himself with a solitary pint of port, he set out in search of Mr Clutchit. But where to find that gentleman was the difficulty; he had left no address in his note to his client, and the people of the inn could not tell where the nine o'clock coach went to in London. They recommended him, however, to apply at various inns the Dragon, the Swan,