her to mention her mother no more, against which command, she had, alas, no opportunity of ever again transgressing; for, in the interval of a few short days, that father was buried beneath the waves; and many reflections had since that eventful period occupied the mind of Agatha, relative to the fate of her unfortunate parents, in which it was more than probable that still her mother had the greatest concern, because she imagined that mother to be in existence.

The mysterious manner in which this illustrious lady had chosen a residence in the Cottage on the Cliff, and the introduction of her by the Marchioness; her concealing her features, and observing that singular and profound silence; the name of Ellen La Roche being attached to the signature; and, lastly, the note she had received from her, intimating that her personal interest was blended with her's, all appeared incidents of so extraordinary a kind, that Agatha conceived that the foreign lady could indeed be no other than her unfortunate mother, whose actual existence she believed, and that she was known by some strange coincidence of circumstances to the family of the Marquis of Montault, and hence she learned to account for the mysterious language of the anonymous letters she had received either from Lord Montague or some person well informed of her mother's history and her own.

With a palpitating heart, therefore, our heroine placed her arm under that of her young protector, as they journeyed on towards the Cottage on the Cliff; and whether Agatha actually trembled, or Wolf thought that she trembled, when they came on the verge of that tremendous steep which had plunged thousands into the perilous ocean that foamed beneath it, we know not, but he halted for a few moments, and looking kindly in her face, softly pronounced,

"You are weary, dearest sister; you are not accustomed to such rugged paths.-Come, we are now in sight of yon Cliff, and will take our leisure ere we reach the Cottage. You tremble, lady, and I feel your heart almost palpitate against mine; nay, cheer thee, no danger shall encompass thee while thy faithful Wolf is the guardian of thy safety."

To which Agatha softly replied,

"Dear boy, I do not fear danger, and yet I own I tremble, but it is not with the sensation of fear, dear Wolf; neither am I weary, so let us on, nor tarry here one moment; I do not like the loneliness of this rude and wild dreary place."

"Then we will leave it lady," uttered. Wolf, again taking the arm of Agatha, at the moment that the splashing of an oar, coming fast to the shore, was distinctly heard, something like a small shot fired off.

"Fire-arms!" exclaimed Agatha ; "did you not hear it,

Wolf?".

"Yes, Lady;" answered he, though in an under tone, as if he did not wish even a whisper to be heard; "Fishermen probably coming to the shore, and informing the pilots by this signal of their approach."

"Nay, they cannot require their aid," cried Agatha; "the winds are hushed, no tempest lowers, and the water is calm and unruffled as a lake."

Wolf made no reply, but gently led Agatha on to a more rapid pace. Meanwhile the splashing of the oar became more distinct, and rude voices accompanied the sound, which the hideous screaming of the wild fowl would have silenced, had not their tone been even more discordant. And the very moment that the boat drew up to the shore, two men, deeply masked, approached Agatha and her youthful guide.

"A good evening to you, fishermen ;" uttered Wolf, by way of courtesy, and grasping firm hold of his beauteous charge; but he was immediately saluted by the foremost of them with the following reply.

"A good evening to you, my young gamecock, but you must crow shortly on another dunghill than you have been wont to do, my young mushroom.-Come, resign that pretty morsel of flesh and blood there you have got hanging on your arm to our charge, or we shall charge you with some muskets, that will send you a kicking like a four years old. Come, give up the lady, she belongs to your betters."

"Sooner shall you separate me limb from limb, than part me from her;" uttered Wolf, resolutely and undauntedly: "she is

my sister-dear as the vital blood of my heart.-Look at her, thou canst not harm her, if you are a man: she is a woman, and claims your protection."

The ruffian staggered a few paces back, regarding the resolute boy with a mixture of contempt, which was evidently blended with surprise, while he exclaimed,—

"Well, I am not going to harm her that I know of, my young spring-nettle; nevertheless, she must away with me, do what thou wilt, resistance will avail you nothing; you are a stout lad, but there are stouter lads here, my boy, that might put thy mettle to the proof, were you to gall them.-Come, lady, let me conduct you to our boat, our Captain is waiting there to receive you."

The ruffian was now going to seize the passive arm of Agatha, for she had become almost passive from absolute terror, but was violently opposed in this attempt by the vigorous arm of the yet undaunted Wolf.

"Touch her at your peril, you bold-faced ruffian, vengeance shall pursue you."

Thy vengeance, my little cockchafer," cried the miscreant; "Come, that is a good one."

Another signal was now discharged from the boat, and the other ruffian immediately advancing with a look of the utmost ferocity, pronounced

"Hell and fury! heed you not the Captain's signal? What dost stand prating to that young gosling for, Cobbo? Cleave him to the ground with thy cutlass, and take the girl to the boat; come, despatch, or bid me do that work for you."

Till this moment, our lovely heroine had sunk beneath the influence of terror and fear, and was too much shocked to utter one exclamation that could betray her fears to her companion; but no sooner did she behold the ruffian approaching to seize on the defenceless Wolf, than she uttered an involuntary and fearful shriek that almost pierced the air; and, throwing herself between the advancing bravo and the unarmed, yet courageous and undaunted Wolf, she firmly, though wildly, exclaimed,—

"Ferocious men! yet hold your uplifted arm, that would pierce the bosom of that innocent youth: shed not his blood, as your