he hoped I would not resent his paying to termined to go; and will set out at daybreak them his accustomed obedience." to morrow morning.' "But, Mademoiselle, this is a measure so Seeing him insolently determined to dispute the point, I turned from him with disdain, and indiscreet, so dangerous, that-that-you quitted the room, my heart swelling with in- must pardon me if—” dignation and vexation. "I sent for you to obey my orders," interAt dinner he again appeared with the other rupted I, "not to dispute their propriety. If servants-I did not look at him. you suppose that there is danger in the enterAt night, when Theresa came to undress prize, you are at liberty to consult your own me, I perceived displeasure in her counte- safety: most willingly will I dispense with nance:she addressed to me some trifling your attendance." chat, to which I did not reply. "I apprehend no danger but on your ac"Mon Dieu, Mademoiselle!" cried she, in count, Mademoiselle. The probable consea pettish tone, "how strangely altered you quence of the journey you meditate will be are! You used to be so sweet-tempered your being immediately thrown into prison on and affable; but I suppose it is being moped your arrival at Paris. It was to avoid this up in this horrid old place that puts you in the circumstance, without doubt, that my master vapours, and makes you so cross to us." removed you hither; he committed you to my Pray to which of you have I been want- care; and what shall I answer him when, on ing in good temper?" said Į, somewhat sur- his liberation from prison, he demands you at prised at this tone of familiarity, which I im- my hands?" 66 puted to my laterly having suffered her, through "It is not to be imagined," returned I, compassion, to converse more with me than" that the daughter will be detained in prison on the imputation of which the father has been declared innocent, and consequently liberated." she had ever before been accustomed to. "Lord, Mademoiselle, you have gotten something so severe in your manner! besides Monsieur La Porte told me how you treated "True, Mademoiselle; but it has been him to-day, for only wanting to make this found, by sad experience, that the strong nasty dreary place as pleasant as he could to walls of prisons afford but weak defences to you. I am sure I wonder of all things, how the persons they inclose, when an exasperatany lady could be ill-natured to such a person ed people, made frantic with repeated wrongs, as M. La Porte: so polite, so gallant, so hand- take into their hands the execution of the some, so much the air of a man of fashion, and such a gift of eloquence! laws." These observations, which were thrown "Which he seems to have communicated out to intimidate me, produced a quite conto you, Theresa, you are so very fluent in his trary effect. praise. But it is hard if I be not at liberty to select my own attendants. I do not like this La Porte, and desire you will mention his name to me no more. "I perceive the tendency of your insinuation," said I, "but I am not to be terrified from the execution of a reasonable purpose by an eventual evil. Cowardice, M. La Porte, Louisa, my father is imprisioned !- Blessed is not always the characteristic of females; God! must he augment the number of the vic-nor is their judgment always to be blinded tims, whose blood has sullied this devoted either by their own weakness, or the artifice country? Why, Oh! why would he not of others. Let the arrangements for my jourfly from it whilst master of his own desti-ney be immediately made. Convinced that Paris is the safest asylum I can at present ny?-Interest and ambition, which predominated with despotic influence in his soul, have choose, thither I am determined to remove imentangled him in their fatal snares! mediately." La Porte was summoned to attend me. La Porte bowed, and retired. But, ah! Louisa, this point is far from be"You have heard," said I sternly, " of the ing adjusted. Will not this artificer of fraud imprisonment of your master?" contrive some wile to prevent the accomplish He bowed with an air of affected solemni-ment of a profect to which he is visibly so ty and sorrow. averse? "I have sent for you," resumed I, "to desire that a carriage may be instantly prepared to carry me to Paris." The anxiety, inspired by my father's imprisonment, gives place to concerns more intimate, more momentous. I feel that I am ab"To Paris, Mademoiselle! Surely you are solutely in the power of a villain; and my soul not aware of the danger attendant on going shrinks from the images of horror which this thither at present?" "If there be danger, I fear it not; I am de dreadful conviction calls to my imagination. Theresa has been with me. "She heard," she said, "of the strange resolution I had taken gers which await her at Paris." She appears of going to Paris.” undetermined, and I believe will stay. I could easily forgive an impertinence which His reason for being thus solicitous to leave proceeded from an apprehension of personal her here I cannot conceive. I formerly bedanger-an apprehenson which may well believed that he had ingratiated himself into her justified by the turbulent spirit of the times; favour with a view of employing her as a spy and mildly told her that she might continue on my actions. Have I at length convinced here if she had the least objection to returning = to Paris. She answered pertly, that "as to that matter, she would not ask my permission; that servants were not slaves now a'days, and that no one could be so unconscionable as to expect that she would go in the way of getting herself butchered, unless it was to please herself. I listened quietly to Theresa, who, I doubted not, would echo the sentiments of La Porte, and I supposed that he had instigated her to endeavour to deter me from my purpose by recalling to my recollection those recent instances of a barbarity, of which I might yet possibly experience the effects. I am, however, pleased to find that he dares not openly dispute my orders; and I am sometimes inclined to cherish the flattering hope that I shall be permitted to execute my design. him, by my disdain, that my actions can never be of any consequence to him; and has he wisely relinquished that infatuated prepossession, which was, at intervals, but too legible in his countenance? Adieu, dearest friend!-I will not seal this: letter till I can add to it the joyful intelligence of my safe arrival in Paris. Louisa, a strange incident has occured; a new subject of dismay and apprehension. I perceived on my dressing-table a paper directed to me. Theresa was present I sent her on an errand. It contained these words, written in a hand evidently disguised. "If you undertake this journey, your ruin will be certain!" What am I to think of this secret warning? Did I not expect that La Porte would contrive some means to prevent this purposed journey; and may he not have invented this contrivance to intimidate me from a design which was so evidently_contrary to his wishes? Besides, who but Theresa had access to my dressingroom? Her apparent willingness to accompany me last night might have been an artifice. Twelve at Night. Theresa has just quitted me. "Her heart," she said, "began to fail her now that she saw every thing prepared for my journey, and she believed she would come with me, at any rate; for she might as well go to Paris, and run the Yet would La Porte criminate himself? and risk of being murdered at once, as stay in this on whom but him could my suspicions fall? great, wild, gloomy place, to die of the vapours, What other person possesses the power to inas she should certainly do when M. La Porte jure me? Could Basil have been the author and I were gone, and she was left by herself of this warning? I am all perplexity and with no one but the bats, and owls, and old doubt. I will go down, and endeavour to see Basil, and the rest of the clan." him. What am I to think, Louisa?—Am I really I went to the breakfast-parlour, and rang. to go?—I am almost afraid to indulge the ex-La Porte appeared, and assured me, with an pectation. air of alacrity, that every thing would be ready in a quarter of an hour. Have my suspicions of La Porte been injurious the chimerical offspring of imagination, disturbed by misfortune, and clouded by solitude? I will cherish, if I can, the flattering idea; it may help to sooth my thorny pillow. Seven in the Morning. "That foolish girl, Theresa, Mademoiselle," said he, "is full of vain terrors, and nothing I believe but your positive commands will induce her to accompany you to Paris." I replied that I was perfectly satisfied to allow her to consult her own inclinations. As I spoke, Basil passed through the corriI have passed a miserable night. Each dor; La Porte was at the door, which was moment, as my spirits were sinking to open. The old man stopped for an instant, and rest, I seemed falling from the edge of a surveyed me with an expression of counteterrible precipice, and started with a wild nance which instantly convinced me that he precipitation that dissolved the fleeting slum- was the writer of the billet which had so ber. greatly perplexed me. La Porte turned hastily to observe him. Basil passed on. Theresa has been with me, and says, the horses will be ready in half an hour. "La Porte," she says, main here, and not expose herself to the dan- came to me; she saw that I was pale, and I ordered breakfast merely to prolong the "advises her to re-time, and find leisure for reflection. Theresa trembled. I said, very truly, that I was seiz "How imprudent?" said La Porte. ed with sudden illness. La Porte entered the take strange liberties, old man. room. "You I was going to prove all and dismiss La "Mademoiselle," said Theresa, "is sud- Porte, but fearful of exciting suspicion of my denly taken ill, and I am sure it would be the private intelligence with Basil, I repressed my most improper thing in the world to set out on anger at this impertinence. a journey in such a situation. I believe, M. "I say and will maintain it," returned BaLa Porte, you may order the horses to be un-sil, "that it is highly imprudent to burthen harnassed." Mademoiselle with a charge of that conse "You are very officious, Mademoiselle quence; and that, were she to take my advice, Theresa," replied La Porte; "Mademoiselle she would not undertake the journey, unless can give her own orders without your interfe- guarded by some stronger escort than the posrence. I hope her indisposition is trifling, and tillions and three horses." that exercise may remove it. Here, Mademoi- "You are an old dotard," said La Porte, in selle," continued he, "is a letter which an ex- a passion, "and would infuse into every othpress has this moment brought from Paris; Ier mind the silly and cowardly apprehensions suppose from Monsieur, your father." which depress your own. I opened the letter in great agitation, and read these lines: 66 MY DEAREST MATHILDE, "And you," said Basil, "are a young-" I saw him ready to articulate the word villian, and hastily interrupting him, desired they "Madame Desmouliers has informed you would both retire, and find some more suitable of my imprisonment, from which I hope to be place to conduct their indecent altercation. shortly released. I now, on sufficient grounds, absolutely "I am impatient to have you near me, and determined against this journey; on which, wish you to return to Paris as speedly as pos- but a few hours before, my wishes had been sible. I may possibly be liberated before your fixed with much ardent solicitude. arrival. La Porte will make the necessary I very plainly perceived that Basil believed arrangements for your journey, and attend you the letter I had received to be forged; and on re-examining it, though it strongly resembled "Adieu, dear child; I know your duteous my father's writing, I too fancied it was a attention to my wishes will allow you to lose counterfeit. to town. no time in returning to Louisa, if possible, imagine my disappointment and distress. I retired to my chamber, and threw myself on a seat. Theresa came to me. 66 "You will find in the ebony closet, of which 'Why, Mademoiselle," said she observing Basil keeps the key, an enamelled casket; my situation, "I am sure it would be downcarry it with you." right madness to think of going in such a conWhilst I read this letter, La Porte surveyed dition, and so I told La Porte: but I don't know me with earnestness, and seemed disappointed what is the matter with him, the devil has got when I mentioned nothing respecting its con- possession of him this morning, I think. But tents. Such curiosity appeared natural, though yesterday he seemed almost out of his wits I was inclined to suspect that he had contrived when you desired to go; and to-day the notion to inspect it before he had delivered it to me. of your staying sets him half frantic. I am I desired him to bring in breakfast, and order-sure I cannot for the life of me tell what he ed, at the same time, that Basil might be sent means. When I speak of going with you, Mademoiselle, he tells me Paris is the most The old man came, accompanied by La shocking place in the world; and that the best Porte. thing I have to expect if I go there, is to have "Basil," said I, "I have just now receiv- my brains dashed out, and my carcase trailed ed a letter from my father, in which he re- about the streets, and thrown to the crows. quired my immediate attendance in Paris, and But if Paris be such a terrible place, Madedesires me to bring with me the enamelled moiselle, that out of pure love and friendship casket, which is in a cabinet in the ebony he persuades me to stay here behind, why is closet now I know that casket contains he so eager to get you to go there? I cannot family jewels to a very considerable amount." come at the meaning of all this.' to me. "Good Lord, Mademoiselle," said Basil, "No matter, Theresa," said I, "you have "this is strange indeed! is it possible that my convinced me I am too ill to undertake this Lord should wish you to act so imprudently?" journey; and I am determined to defer it at He darted a look at me, which infused into least till to-morrow." my mind a thousand indistinct suspicions. "I am very glad of it, Mademoiselle; not that you are ill, but that you resolve not to go and, besides, not being used to such things, I to-day, for I should be so moped in this dis- should make a mere jumble of it. But, Mamal old place. But I'll go and tell La Porte, demoiselle, I have thought of a way. If you that he my order the horses up. Now I know could come to the ebony closet at three she'll be in a great fume; but I don't care, it is at night, I think by that time I could contrive none of my doing." a way; for, when put to my shifts, I can contrive as well as the other people. I say by She soon returned. 66 "It was just as I said, Mademoiselle; La that time I think I could find a way to set our Porte was in the devil's own humour, and Messieurs fast by the eyes for the rest of the wanted me to go up with twenty rigmarole night; so you may throw a slip of paper over messages to you; but I said I would do no the balustrade into the hall to me, to tell me I such thing, and that it would be as much as whether you will venture to come. your life was worth to set out so ill. So then "God send you his protecting grace, Mahe fell a cursing and damning, and said it was demoiselle, and defend you from the evil deall that old rogue Basil's doing, and that he signs of the wicked! hoped to see his head on a pike yet. Now I You will find the door of the closet can't conceive why he should hate him so bit-open.' terly; I see no great harm in the old soul." Trusting implicitly on Basil's prudence, I Louisa, what could have been the intention determined to hazard this interview. I wrote of this villain? Was the casket the ultimate with my pencil, on a slip of paper, the words object of his contrivances? Would he have-"I will meet you," and threw it to Basil, robbed me on the way, and then murdered me, who waited for my answer in the hall. to conceal the black transaction? Why else The ebony closet is a small chamber, situI his solicitude to induce Theresa to remain ated at the upper end of the corridor I have so here after us? too honest to be made the ac- often mentioned; it was my mother's favourcomplice, he would not suffer her to be the ite reading closet. I entered it once since I witness of his meditated crime. have been here, and the retrospections it reI wish ardently for an interview with Basil, called were such as my present dejected state yet concern for his safety makes me avoid of spirits were ill calculated to support. him sedulously. Oh Louisa! what a state is mine! You may conceive how anxiously I passed the evening. Theresa, who I believe has I have kept my chamber all day. It is Ba- some affection for me, where this attachment sil's custom at the close of day to visit the does not interfere with her fondness for La range of apartments that open to the corridor, Porte, entreated me to suffer her to watch by to see that the windows, which are left me in the night; but I absolutely refused her open to air them in the day, be properly fas- attendance, said I was much better, and that I tened. Possibly I may find an opportunity of hoped to be able to begin my journey on the speaking to him. morrow. At the hour when I expected Basil, I com- At one o'clock the house seemed quiet; but plained of faintness, and walked with Theresa on bending over the balustrade, I heard a conin the corridor. I leaned over the balustrade; fused murmer of distant sounds. I supposed Basil passed through the great hall; he saw that La Porte was entertaining his companions, me, looked anxiously round him, and shewed and that Basil meant to profit by the inebriame a letter. I turned hastily, and spoke to tion that generally succeeds such debauches, Theresa. Basil came up with the keys. to see me without danger. At the appointed When I saw him on the stairs, I sent Theresa hour, perceiving that all was quiet, I took my to my chamber to search for a smelling-bot-taper, and stole softly to the closet, of which I tle. As he passed me, he gave me the letter. found the door unlocked. I entered, shut the I instantly returned to my chamber, and mak-door, and setting my light on a table, looked ing a pretence to dismiss Theresa, read these round me. The wainscot of this apartment is ebony, inlaid with ornaments of silver; the "Thanks be to Almighty God and his saints, curtains and furniture green velvet with silver Mademoiselle, you have escaped the snare fringe. lines that was spread for you. But what signifies Ah! Louisa, how are the shadows of sorrow your escaping one snare when you are beset deepened by the contrasted lights of departed by a knot of villians that are laying their wick- felicity! How many delightful hours have I ed heads together by night as well as by day, spent in this favourite apartment with the Marplanning, plotting, and contriving your des-chioness and Salignac! How often have the hours flown on unheeded till the beams of the truction! "If I had the gift of writing, I could tell a declining sun faded from the tops of the disstrange story; but my eyes are grown weak; tant mountains, and imperceptibly quenched ORIGINAL. THE OLD BACHELOR. CHAPTER III. their splendours in the falling twilight, and the brightning radiance of the moon shed a serene illumination of power to tranquillize the afflicted spirit, if the sorrows of the heart could submit to the enchantment of the senses. The recollection of past hours stole my rememAmong the ladies with whom George had brance for a moment from present anxiety. recently become acquainted, was one, the The form of my dear lost parent seemed be- daughter of an American member of congress, fore me I heard her voice, I saw her smiles who had lately arrived from the States, on a of maternal love. I turned quickly to the so- visit to the continent. He had met, and been fa, where she had been accustomed to sit, but introduced to her, at an entertainment given by the spell of fancy was dissolved-a horrible the American ambassador; and with that ready vacancy presented itself. Where was she at tact, which he possessed, he soon became inthat moment?-Alas! her inanimate form was timate with her. But now he had met with a mouldering in the cold damp earth!-The re-being, different in all respects, from those membrance struck an ice-bolt to my heart! (To be Continued.) For the Visiter. A SONG. Summer's sun is on us, on us, Winter's clouds away, away, O'er the wave and on the sea. Flow'rets fair are springing, springing, over whom he had been accustomed to exert an influence; one whose dignified and commanding manner, inspired him with a sentiment somewhat approaching to awe. She was a native of the state of Virginia, and was a member of one of the proudest families in that aristocratic portion of the country. In person, she was rather tall, though exhibiting a form of perfect symmetry; her complexion was that of a light brunette, with high and constant colour in her cheeks, but her eyes and forehead were the features that more than all others distinguished her from the mass of mortals; her eyes were black and full, and discovered a depth, fervor, and intensity of feeling, with which few are gifted; her forehead was lofty and commanding, and plainly proclaimed that here, had nature placed her stamp and patent of nobility; her hair was of the raven's plumage, and hung in glossy ringlets from her brow; indeed, the whole contour of her countenance could scarce fail to denote, even to a casual observer, that she was no ordinary woman; but to return to our narrative.— George who could be captivated by those whose charms were of an inferior order, found her irresistable, but she was not to be lighty won, and George received no return for those innumerable melting looks of love, with which he in vain sought to subdue her. She was polite, nay even sociable with him but no more; this, to most others, situated as Mr. Cleveland was, would have deterred them from entertaining a hope of making an impression on a breast, apparently so impervious to all tender thoughts; but in George it served merely as an incitePhilosopher relates a characteristic anecdote ment to press him forward, and stimulate him of an out-at-elbows poet, who by some freak of to achieve the accomplishment of his design. fortune, came into possession of a five dollar If he was before pleased with her, he was bill, called to a lad, and said, "Johnny, my now enraptured; none, none he enthusiasticalboy, take this William, and get it changed." ly exclaimed, have I ever met equal to her, in "What do you mean by calling it William?" purity of mind or lovelines of person, and he inquired the wondering lad. "Why John," re-resolved not to relinquish the pursuit until he plied the poet, "I am not sufficiently familiar had obtained her hand as his reward. Nor is with it to take the liberty of calling it Bill!" it at all to be doubted, that he felt sincerely -Boston Post. all, and if possible, more than he expressed; Thus hope through terrors bending, bending, When sorrow's cares are ending, ending, Caroline Co., Va. TREATING A BANK NOTE WITH |