frigate anchored under the walls of the garrifon, at which time the van of the British fleet was perceived in the Gut. The Spanish admiral thewed no difpofition to oppofe the reinforcements being thrown into the garrifon, but from the want of timely attention to the circumftances of the navigation, only four or five tranfports could enter the Bay. The reft, with the fleet, were obliged to pafs to the eastward into the Mediterranean. The fleet confifted of thirty-four fail of the line, eleven of which were three-deckers, with fix frigates, and thirty-one ordnance tranfports, conveying a reinforcement of upwards of fixteen hundred men for the garrifon. Early in the morning of the 12th, captain Curtis failed in the Latona, to apprize lord Howe of the fituation of the enemy's fleet. At noon of that day, the British fquadron appeared in good order, off Eftepona, or Marbella, and the tranfports, with the frigates, were working to windward, to gain the Bay. As they approached the ifthmus, the enemy faluted them from their mortars, and fired upon them from behind the eaftern advanced guard houfe. "The combined fleets, meanwhile, were very active in repairing their damages, and in forming a line of battle along the fhore. In the evening of the 12th, a number of troops were embarked on board them from the camp. At night the Panther man of war, with feveral of the British tranfports, reached the Bay. The enemy perfevered in their cannonade from their land batteries, and made fome fruitless attempts with thells to burn the St. Michael. The fire from the garrifon was more than commonly brifk, as fuch a material fupply of ammunition had been thrown in, and the effects were very perceptible in the enemy's, works. "On the 13th of October, the combined fleets weighed anchor, and flood out evidently with an intention of preventing the tranfports from reaching the garrifon. They amounted to forty-four Thips of the line, with a vaft number of frigates and other fmaller veffels. By the fuperior conduct of the British admural, however, he was enabled to throw all the fupplies into the garrifon, and manoeuvred his fleet fo as not to fhun anengagement, even with fo marked a fuperiority of force as the enemy oppoled to him. He lay in a clofe line to leeward of the combined fleets, but they did not think it proper to profit by the advantage of the wind. "On the 18th, the Buffalo man of war, with the rest of the transports, got in, and at noon of the fame day, four or five fhips of the line, under the orders of lord Mulgrave, were detached to the garrifon with the 25th and 59th regiments. His lordship difembarked the troops with the greateft expedition, and rejoined the admiral off Tetuan, who having now accomplished the object of his expedition, refolved to embrace the favourable wind that then prevailed, to carry him out to the weftward. On the following morning, therefore, at day break, lord Howe, under an eafy fail, ftood with his fleet in clofe order towards the Straits, the combined fleet, that was to the eastward, and confequently to windward of him, fleering the fame courfe. On the preceding evening, captain Curtis had gone off in the La tona, to communicate to the admiral the governor's confidential difpatches, and no opportunity offering for his return to the garrifon, he was obliged to remain on board the fleet. "On the morning of the 20th, the wind fhifted to the northward, and lord ↑ Howe having got clear of the Straits, he formed his fleet to leeward, to receive the enemy, who ftill kept the weather-gage. By this circumftance they were left, uninterruptedly, to take the diftance at which they fhould think proper to engage; but in place of con fiding in their great fuperiority, (for they had no lefs than forty-fix fhips in their line) and aiming at a clofe and decifive action, they began their cannonade at fun-fet on the van and rear of the Britifh fleet, feeming to point their chief attack on the latter, and continued their fire along their whole line, at a confide rable diftance, and with little effect, until ten at night. The fire was only returned occafionally from different lips of the English fleet, as the nearer ap proach of the enemy at times afforded a more more favourable opportunity for making crecy. Claudine repaired thither in the any impreffion upon them. As it was not the policy of the -British admiral to feek, with fo very inferior a force, a renewal of the action, (particularly as he had fo fuccefsfully relieved the garrifon) and as the enemy feemed ftudioufly to fhun a clofer engagement, the fleets feparated in the night, the combined fleets having hauled their wind, and flood on with a great prefs of fail. "The 2d of February, 1783, the duc de Crillon informed the governor, by a flag of truce, that the preliminaries of a general peace had been figned at Paris on the 20th of January, between Great Britain, France, and Spain. When the boats met, the Spaniards rofe up, in a feeming tranfport of joy, and cried out, We are all friends!-delivering the letters with the greatest apparent fatisfaction. Previous to the meeting of the boats, the enemy difcharged about thirty rounds, but never after the delivery of the letters fired upon the garrifon. In the evening the Britif artillery likewife ceafed. On the following day, the Spaniards advanced from their works, and converfed with the English fentries." Claudine. A Swiss Tale. From the CLA French of M. De Florian. (Concluded from page 336.) LAUDINE, furprifed to find any one who did not defpife her, kiffed his hands, without faying a word. He fpoke to her in the moft friendly manner, and inquired after his good brother the Curate he dwelt with pleasure on the good deeds of that worthy man, and obferved, that one of the moft pleafing duties of their miniftry was to confole the unhappy, and heal the broken-hearted. Claudine liftened with refpectful gratitude, he appeared to her as an angel fent from heaven to comfort her. After fupper the retired to bed in a calmer ftate of mind, and if he did not fleep, fhe at leaft refted. On the morrow, the good Curate fearched through Salenches for a little chamber where Claudine might lie-in. An old woman, called Madame Felix, offered an apartment, and promifed fe evening, the Curate paid three months rent in advance, the old Lady paffed her for a niece lately married at Chambery, and every thing was fettled. Indeed it was high time; for the fatiguing journey, and the agitation of mind that Claudine had fuftained, brought on her labourpains that very evening: although only feven months gone with child, the produced a boy beautiful as the day, whom Madame Felix caufed to be baptized by the name of Benjamin. The Curate was defirous of immediately putting the child out to nurfe, but Claudine declared with tears in her eyes, that he would rather die than be feparated from Benjamin: fhe was allowed to keep him for the firft few days, and at the end of thefe days her maternal fendiefs had encreafed. The Curate reafoned with her; reprefented to her, that fuch conduct deprived her of all hopes of ever returning to Chamouny, or of being reconciled to her father: Claudine's only anfwer was to embrace Benjamin. The time flipt on, Claudine nurfed her child, and remained with Madame Felix, who loved her with all her heart. The fifty crowns from her father, and the little money Nanette had put into her bundle, had hitherto paid her expences. Nanette did not dare to come to fee her, but the fent her all the could fpare, and thus Claudine wanted for nothing. She employed her time in learning to read and write of the old lady, who had formerly kept a fchool at Bonville, and in taking care of Benjamin. Claudine was not unhappy, and little Benjamin grew charming. But fuch happinefs could not laft. One mor ning the Curate of Salenches came to pay her a vifit. My dear girl," faid he, "when I received you under my protection, when I covered your fault with the mantle of charity, my defign was, to take care of your child, to enable him to gain his bread; and I hoped, during that interval, to have appeafed the anger of your father; to have prevailed with him to receive you once more into his house, where your repentance, your modefty, your love of virtue, and of labou Fff 2 mig 412 might gradually have induced him to She took the road to Geneva, and flept She was twelve days in croffing the mountains, and people were fo much pleafed with the air and appearance of this handfome little Savoyard,and of the child whom the carried on her back, and called her little brother, that fhe was hardly allowed to pay any thing, but commonly difcharged her reckoning by amufing the company with fome of the little beautiful fongs peculiar to her country: fo that when Claudine arrived at Turin, fhe had ftill fome of her money left, with which the hired a little garret, bought a brufh and blacking, and, followed by little Benjamin, who never left her, fhe fet up a little ftall for blacking fhoes, in the Palais Royal, under the name of Claude. During the first days fhe gained but little, because the was awkward, and took a good deal of time to gain a penny; but fhe foon became expert, and the work went on well. Claude, intelligent, active, alert, ran all the errands of the quarter. Benjamin, during her abfence, fat upon and guarded the ftool. If there was a letter to be carried, a box to be removed, or bottles to be conveyed to the cellar, Claude was called in preference to any other. She was the confidant and affiftant of all the lazy fervants in the neighbourhood, and in the evening often car ried home a crown as the gains of the day. This was fully fufficient to fupport her and Benjamin, who every day increafed in ftature and in beauty, and be came the favourite of all the neighbour hood. This happy life had lafted for more than two years, when one day Claudine and her fon being bufy arranging their little ftall with their heads bent towards the ground, they faw a foot appear upon the tool. Claudine took her bruth, and without looking at the mafter of the ho immediately began her operation. When the moft difficult part was done, be railed her head. The brufh fell from her hands, the remained immoveable:i was Mr. Belton whom the beheld. Little Benjamin, who was not at all affected, took up the bruth, and with a feeble hand attempted to finish the work of Claudine, who ftill remained motionless, Mr Belton. Mr. :it prize, why fhe ftopped, and fmiled at the efforts of the child, whofe figure pleafed him. Claudine, recovering her fpirits, excufed herfelf to Mr. Belton with fo fweet a voice, and fuch well-chofen words, that the Englishman, ftill more furprized, afked Claudine feveral queftions about her country and her fituation. Claudine anfwered, with a calm air, that the and her brother were two orphans who gained their bread by the employment which he faw, and that they were from the Valley of Chamouny. This name ftruck Mr. Belton, and looking attentively at Claudine, he thought he recognized her features, and inquired her name. "I am called Claude," faid fhe." And you are from Chamouny?"-" Yes, Sir, from the village of Prieure."-"Have you no other brother?"-" No, Sir, only Benjamin.""Nor any fifter?""Pardon me, Sir."—"What is her name?'—" Claudine."-" Claudine ! and where is fhe?"-"Oh I do not know, indeed, Sir." "How can you be ignorant of that?" -"For many reafons, Sir, which cannot intereft you, and which it would make me weep to tell." Claudine, with the tears starting in her eyes, told him the had done. Mr. Belton, who did not go away, put his hand into his pocket, and gave her a guinea. I cannot change you," faid Claudiae.-" Keep the. whole," faid the Englishman," and tell me, would you be forry to quit your prefent employment, and accept of a good place? That cannot be, Sir." Why not?"-"Becaufe nothing in the world would make me quit my brother."-" But fuppofe he were to accompany you ""That would be another matter." "Well, Claude, you shall be with me; I will take you into my fervice, you will be very happy in my houfe, and your brother thall accompany you."-"Sir," aufwered Claudine, a little embarraffed, "favour me with your addrefs, and I will call upon you to-morrow." Mr. Belton gave it her, and bade her not fail to come. 66 It was well for Claudine that the converfation now terminated, for her tears almoft fuffocated her; fhe haftened to her chamber, and there fhut herfelf up to reflect on what the ought to do. Her inclination and her affection for This point being fettled, the next morning the waited on Mr. Belton, who agreed to give her good wages, and ordered her and her brother cloaths imme diately. Mr. Belton now wished to renew the converfation of yesterday, and to inquire further concerning her filter. But Claudine interrupted him. "Sir," faid fhe," my fifter is no more; fhe is dead of mifery, chagrin, and repentance. All our family have lamented her unhappy end; and those who are not our relations have no right to renew fuch melancholy reflections." Mr. Belton, more than ever aftonifhed at the fpirit of Claude, defifted from further inquiry; but he conceived a high efteem and a fincere friendship for this extraordinary young man. Claude foon became the favourite of his mafter; and Benjamin, towards whom Mr. Belton found himself attached by an irrefilible impulfe, was for ever in his chamber. The amiable child, as if confcious that he owed his exiftence to Mr. Belton, loved him nearly as well as Claudine; and he told him fo with fuch fweet innocence and fimplicity, that the Englifhman could not do without Benjamin. Claudine wept for joy, but the concealed her tears. But the diffipation of Mr. Belton afflicted the heart of Claudine, and made her fear that the hour of difcovery would never arrive.” By the death of his parents, Mr. Belton had, at the age of nineteen, been left mafter of a very large fortune, which he had hitherto employed in wandering over Italy, ftopping wherever he found it agreeable to him, that is, wherever he met with agreeable women, whom he could deceive and ruin. A lady of the court of Turin, rather advanced in life, but fill beautiful, was his prefent miftrefs; he was lively, paffionate, and very jealous of Mr. Belton. She required that he thould fup with her every evening, and write to her every morning. The Engliman did not dare to refufe. Notwith landing all this they had many quarrels: for the falcft caufe the would weep, tear her hair, feize a knife, and play a thoiand fooleries, which began to tre Fr. Belton. Claude faw and felt allts, but the fuffered in filence. Mr. Beton gave her every day fresh marks of confidence, and often complained to her of the unpleafant life he ed. Claude now and then rifqued a little advice, half-joke and half ferious, which Mr. Belton he rd with approbation, and promifd to follow to-morrow; but when to-morrow came, Mr. Beton returned to the lady more from habit than inclination, and Claude, who wept in private, affected to fmile, while fhe accompanied her maf ter. At length there arofe fo violent a quarrel between the Englishman and the marquife, that he refolved never again to go near her; and in order to prevent it, connected himfelf with another lady. of the fame place, no better than the former. In this change Claudine faw only a new fubject of affliction. All that he had done was to begin again; but the refigned herfelf to it without complaining, and continued to ferve her mafter with the fame fidelity as ever. But the marquife was not of a difpofition fo eafily to yield up the heart of her English lover. She had him watched, and foon difcovered her rival; the exhaufted every ftratagem of intrigue to make him return; but in vain. The Englthman did not anfwer her letters, refufed her appointments, and ridiculed her threats. The marquife, now in defpair, thought only of revenge. One day, when Mr. Belton, followed by Claudine, was as ufual coming out of the houfe of his new miftrefs about two o'clock in the morning, and, already difpleafed with her, was telling his faithful Claudine that he had thoughts of fetting out immediately for London, fuddenly four defperadoes fell with poniards on Mr. Belton, who had hardly me to throw himfelf againft the wall is word in his hand. Claudine, on fight of the affaffins, fprang before her mafter, and received in her bolom the ftroke of a poniard aimed at Mr. Belton: fhe inftantly fell. The Englithman fet furioufly on the man who had wounded her, and foon ftretched him on the pavement; and the three others, finding themfelves furiously at tacked, quickly fled. Mr. Belton did not purfue them; he returned to his domeftic, raised him, embraced him, and called on him with tears; but Claudine did not anfwer, for fhe had fainted. Mr. Belton took her in his arms, carried her to his houfe, and laid her in his own bed, while others at his defire ran for a furgeon. Mr. Belton, impatient to fee the nature of the wound, unbuttoned Claudine's veft, drew afide the fhirt covered with blood, looked, and beheld with aftonishment the bofom of a woman. During this the furgeon arrives, and examines the wound, which he declares not to be mortal, as the weapon hal ftruck againft the bone. The wourd is dreffed, and ftimulatives applied, but ftill Claudine does not recover. Mr. Belton, who fupported her head, perceives a ribbon round her neck; he pulls it, and difcovers a ring. It is his own; the fame that he had left on Montanverd to the beautiful fhepherdess whom he fo cruelly abandoned. Every thing is at once evident. He fends for a nurfe, who undreffes Claudine, and lays her in her own bed; and the poor girl, at length recovering her fenfes, throws her eyes around, and fees with aftonishment the nurse, the furgeon, her matter, and Benjamin, who, awaked by all this noife, had rifen, and run half naked to his brother, whom he embraced with tears. Claudine immediately endeavoured to confule Benjamin; then calling tomind what had happened, feeing herself in a bed, and reflecting with inquietude that fhe had been undreffed, the quickly put her hand to the ribbon which held her ring. Mr. Belton, who watched her, faw in her looks the pleafure with which the found it was ftill there. He then made every body leave the room, knelt down by the fide of the bed, and taking the hand of Claudine-" Da not |