giveness, pardon me, and bestow one pitying glance on the wretched Montgomery, ere I leave you for ever.' She raised her head, and turning her tearful' eyes and blushing cheek towards him, with a mingled look of love and tenderness said to him, 'Dear Montgomery, do not require me to say it. I must not, cannot, bid you farewell; if you really love me, take me, I am truly, fondly yours.' He caught her, nearly fainting, in his arms, blessing her a hundred times for compassionating his sufferings. The reader may imagine the ecstasies of Montgomery, but pen cannot do justice to the scene. The little Edgar climbed his favorite's knee, and, as if he gave them his intuitive approbation, twined a little arm about the neck of each, alternately kissing them, thus forming link of affection between them. a rosy No time was lost. Yorick was hurried back to London to withdraw his master's baggage from on board the vessel, while Montgomery, who had prevailed on Lady Emily to name an early day for their union, repaired immediately to the city to procure an especial marriage license. The nuptials of Charles Montgomery, the handsome American, late captain in his Majesty's Guards, to Lady Emily, the young, lovely, and rich widow of Sir William Rivers, were announced in the Morning Chronicle, London Times, and other papers, to the no small annoyance of the bucks, bloods, and fortune hunters, in the west end of the city. But this did not disturb the happiness of Montgomery and his beauteous bride, or the triumphant rejoicings of the more humble, but not less happy, Mr and Mrs Yorick. Montgomery in due time prevailed on his lady to sell such of her estates as were not entailed upon her son Edgar, and embark with him for his native country; for she loved her husband so dearly, that she had already lost many of her prejudices against the Americans, and believed as firmly as he did, that they were cruelly aggrieved. They accordingly sailed for Virginia in 17-, and after a short and prosperous voyage, arrived at Richmond, whence they immediately departed for the plantation of Captain Montgomery's father, in the county of Westmoreland, where they were joined by Montgomery's sister Constance and her husband Edward Carroll, and received with the greatest joy by all parties. Soon after this, Montgomery was created a brevet colonel, and on more than one occasion distinguished himself in his country's struggle for liberty and independence. . After Colonel and Mrs Montgomery, as she was called since her residence in Virginia, had lived happily together for many years, Betty informed her misstress of the trick Yorick and herself had imposed upon her, by the introduction and lesson of instruction they had given old Marion, which clearly accounted to her for a circumstance that had often been a subject of speculation between the colonel and herself, and had long been considered an unaccountable and mysterious affair. They very readily forgave their faithful domestics for the imposition thus practised upon them, as it had been instrumental in securing to them unbounded happiness; but it is more than probable that if theirs had been an unhappy union, the secret would have been buried with those who planned it. Edgar Rivers returned to England, and inherited the estate and title of his father. Colonel Montgomery and his lady lived to an age that but few individuals ever reach, and died within a month of each other, at Norfolk, Virginia, after having enjoyed more of earthly bliss, than generally falls to the lot of mortals. It was the good fortune of the writer to know this worthy and accomplished couple while herself very young. From their lips she heard the principal part of this story, and often, in a laughing way, did they warn her against the folly, not to say immorality, of consulting fortune tellers. THE HOUSE ON THE HEATH: A TALE OF REAL LIFE. PART I. 'I am not mad, I would to Heaven I were ! O, if I could, what grief should I forget!'-King John. In the county of Hampshire, England, there is an ancient town called Odiham, celebrated for the ruins of King John's palace, where the good Queen Anne occasionally gave audience to persons afflicted with the king's evil, who, under the influence of superstition, were weak enough to believe they could be cured by the touch of royalty. At this place, many years ago, there resided Dr Middleton, a physician as eminent for his personal and moral courage, as for skill in his profession. His practice being very extensive, he had patients at a place called Hartley Row, several miles distant from the town, and was in consequence compelled frequently to cross a heath which had a dangerous appearance. On this spot stood a solitary house, no other habitation being within half a mile of it on either side. It had been long the custom of Dr Middleton to slacken the reins of his horse on approaching this deserted mansion, that he might indulge his imagination in a variety of speculations as to the probable purposes for which it had been erected. He had made frequent inquiries respecting the owner, but could learn nothing satisfactory about its history, and therefore came to the conclusion, that it had doubtless been built as a restingplace for sportsmen, after their day's fatigue while in pursuit of the wild fowl with which Hartley Heath abounds, and that it might have been abandoned in consequence of some dark and dismal tragedy having been performed in it, which time alone could develope. One day as the Doctor was passing this house, and as usual contemplating it with mixed feelings of awe and curiosity, to his utter amazement he saw, passed through a broken pane of glass of the small garret window, a hand which waved a white handkerchief as if in token of distress. Dr Middleton, in addition to his other good qualities, possessed a large share of humanity. His compassionate feelings were aroused, and instantaneously dismounting from his horse, he fastened it to the door post, and resolved upon investigating this apparent mystery. He first knocked at that which appeared to be the principal entrance. Receiving no answer, he applied the butt end of his whip to it with some energy. This eliciting no reply, he walked round to the back door, but the shutters being closed, he saw no vestige of a human being. He knocked at this door furiously, but to no effect. All within was silent as the grave. |