women's tears, and check this woman's weakness which so disgraces the daughter of the great Albino Wherefore weepest thou? Thy father is slain, and thy brother is also numbered with the dead, that strew Bohemian fields, with the blood of many a gallant chief. But hath not thy father, and thy brother, died like heroes? Feels not thy heart the deathless fame they have acquired, through ages of eternity, in the fields of immortal glory; and lamentest thou their fall thou weak and puerile maid? Ah, had I again a husband and a son, so valiant, and so brave, again I would weary heaven with my prayers, that they might thus live-and thus perish! Timid girl, hadst thou one atom of thy mother's dauntless spirit in thy young bosom thou wouldst rejoice at a soldier's fall, and mingle tears with rapture among the cypress that shadow his remains!"

"But tears are not denied to the suffering and the brave," softly responded the lovely maid; " and surely my noble mother will not condemn those that nature yields to nature! Mother, when Lazarus died, whose eye was it that dropt a tear of pity on his grave, and did not place it to the account of weakness? It was the blessed Saviour of mankind, who wept for Lazarus; whose virtues we are taught to emulate, and whose character demands ali human homage, and exceeds all human praise! Adoring Him, I do not yield to weakness, for I had been weak, indeed, without this blessed knowledge of his divine and holy laws. 'Tis said, mother, that the mighty victor of this bloody battle against the Austrian army is again—

"Our mortal foe," fiercely vociferated the

indignant Margaret.

"Thy father's and thy brother's

foe! The accurs'd, the proud St. Julian! He whom I ever hated-he whom I still bear mortal hatred to, and, however famed for warlike deeds, he whom I shall hate for evermore !"

"St. Julian! St. Julian !" a second time repeated the faultering maid, while for a moment, like the young rosebud of the morning blush'd her lovely face; yet, paled it as quickly, and as suddenly to an almost deathlike hue; and there was an infant sigh, just newly born in her transparent bosom; but soon she sent the little trembler hence! but the tear that fell on that now pale cheek, was-pity; and the sigh that wafted from that snowy breast, was-love.

Already had the dark eye of Lady Margaret, glanc'd with rage on her unoffending child; and, though she heard not the gentle sigh, she mark'd the roseate blush that the name of St. Julian had given birth to. and sternly demanded to know why she had repeated the name of St. Julian?

"Why hast thou echoed my words !" exclaimed she, "I said, St. Julian! Why dost thou turn pale at the name of St Julian; and ask what already thou dost know?"

"And should I not tremble at the name of him who inspires all others, with this involuntary fear," timidly, and yet more faulteringly, pronounced Augustina. "And yet, till my mother told me, I did not know that he it was who conducted the allies, and led the forces against my noble father. I did not think St. Julian would have The Bohemian maid paused, and the pause was filled up, without delay, by Lady Margaret.

"Have slain thy father, and made thy bro

ther bleed," uttered she. "Be this a memorandum of the unexampled virtue of the great St. Julian Treasure this in thy memory: the goodly service he has rendered to the daughter of Albino; who once presumptuously hoped to win thy favour, and woo thee for his bride. But thy father knew better how to appreciate the worth of his child, than give thee then to this beardless boy; (for so St. Julian was, when first beneath the towers of St. Clair, he sighed for Augustina.) Scarce fifteen summers then had smiled upon your birth, and you were a wild young laughing girl, and had not learned discretion. St. Julian saw, and fancied that he loved the youthful daughter of Albino, for you were frolicsome as the playful kid, and quite as thoughtless, innocent, and free. I do not think the new-born lamb, that sports in the meadow-fields, and drinks the dew of balmy flowers, was ever more innocent of guile than thou, my Augustina! But soon these girlish hours approached to woman's loveliness, and the sweet conscious blush of maiden modesty repressed thy frolics and thy youthful sports: and much thy father feared the pensive sigh, that often broke in midst of thy most joyous smiles, was breathed for the young boy that was the companion of thy infancy. Tell me, daughter, did thy young heart once linger on thy father's foe? And, tell thy mother truly, did you love St. Julian as much as I fear you did?"

"If what I felt then was so like what I feel now, it could not be termed what love is, dear mother," said the blushing maid; " for I remember, that I ever loved to quarrel with St. Julian for some idle toy, which when he gave it me, I would fain have quarrelled with him again to hear him chide so very prettily for

he would laugh all the while that I pouted, and tear the flowers that we had gathered by the dewy banks; and ever and anon he would fling them at me, and entangle them in my hair, and then he would take them out again, and I laughed to see him thus ; and before night, all our quarrels were forgotten, as though we had none such! If this be love mother, and you ask me trulv-why then I loved St. Julian."

"I am satisfied," cried the haughty Margaret, endeavouring to conceal some sensations that she found it difficult to hide, under the specious mask of hypocrisy; while she had so unwittingly drawn this artless, but, to her, terrible confession, from the lips of..her lovely daughter!" It was not love you felt for this beardless youth!" uttered she, " and he no love did ever feel for thee!"

"What then was it mother?" cried Augustina, with an air of such resistless naivette, that stern as Lady Margaret was, she could not help smiling at the simplicity of her lovely child.

"What matters it, what it was then," uttered she, relapsing into her usual stern habitude of manner, "or what it is now, since to Albino's daughter St. Julian can be nothing!-For mark me, Augustina, and beware you do not slight a mother's counsel; with respect to the state of thy affections, when the gentle dove woos for its mate the ravenous kite, then shall St. Julian wed for his wife, the daughter of Albino ! for sooner would I link thee with the meanest slave, the lowest hireling in thy late father's service, than join thy hand with St. Julian: however far renowned for gallant deeds, however raised to martial glory! In the estimation of thy mother, he has fallen, to rise

no more. Begone to thy chamber, and hide those flowing tears which so ill become thee: if they flow for St. Julian, they will never be quenched, though Etna's fiery gulph stood between thee and thy affections, for the dauntless hero! And yet the vilest renegade that ever stalked with brazen shield, is not more pernicious in his counsels, more terrible in example, than this upstart conqueror, with all his mighty virtues -this St. Julian! But no more of this dull matter, since thou hast heard, what love I bear him. The Austrian troops, are like to march with hungry stomachs, and empty bowls! They have exhausted their stores ; the allies have retreated, and their forces are injured; the wounded soldiers lay in unburied heaps, on the ensanguined plains; and St. Julian,-the great St. Julian-is unable to answer the clamorous demands made upon him for fresh supplies. What is the result? They must apply to me! yes, to me, his mortal foe! His haughty spirit, his proud aspiring soul, must yield in meek submission to Margaret, or behold his soldiers perish ;—and perish they shall, before I will lend assistance to their wants. E'en now, I wait in hourly expectation, that a herald will be sent from St. Julian, with terms of entreaty for supplies; which supplies, they shall be peremptorily denied :-yes, I thank the gods, that this revenge still is Margaret's."

Not a sentence was spoken from the trembling lips of Augustina! not a sigh escaped from her lovely heav ing bosom! in silence she retired to her chamber, and Lady Margaret entered her holy sanctuary of private consultations, the armory. I heard no more, Sir

Walter."

"And did you become the voluntary listener of this