to be at Philadelphia.-Do you wonder now, George, or can you blame me, when these things came to my knowledge, one after the other, as they did, without allowing me to see their drift-can you blame me for concealing them-for not betraying you to danger, perhaps to death-for deceiving you by false pretences, when you wished me to go abroad more, and kept wondering why I did not wear that shawl and bonnet you like so

much?"

"Harriet! give me your hand-both! both! and let me look into your eyes!"

"Oh, my dear husband! You can have no idea what a load is taken off my heart! How happy it makes me to feel that you know all these things, and are able to look upon them as I do-as the pitiful vengeance of a profligate, who has no hope under hea ven, but for a kind of newspaper notoriety.". Harriet, as you value all that woman holds dear on earth, answer me one single question-it is but one."

"With all my heart, dear."

"Have you been abroad this afternoon? have you left the house at all?"

"No-not for a single moment. I have not even passed the door since I parted with you at breakfast."

"Have you ever seen the woman you suppose to have personated you?"

"Never; but I have heard of her two or three times."

"Do you know of another shawl in the world, like yours?"

"No; and from what uncle Joe said, when he gave it to me-you know it was made on purpose, and the pattern was entirely new-[ did not believe there was another in the world, till Mrs. Forsyth saw this, and told me it was exactly like mine, though she thought it rather brighter coloured, and larger, and, if any thing, a little handsomer."

"Oh, Harriet!"-covering his face with his hands, literally gasping for breath, and staggering to the open window-" oh, my wife, my poor, patient. injured, and faithful wife!" My husband! my husband! oh, my husband!" shrieked the poor, half-distracted wife, rushing to his help, followed by Pompey, as frantic as herself; but her husband pushed her away at one moment, and then held her at arms' length at another, and then drew her up to his bosom, crying and laughing by turns, and the dog yelping and barking, till, just in the midst of the confusion, somebody knocked at the door, it flew open, and in tumbled Harper, head first, and rushing up to Elsworth, seized the unhappy man by both hands, and swearing that he was delighted to see him alive, and that after they had separated, he had his misgiving-bow, wow, wow!" Be quiet, sir!"

"Better shut the window, man," cried a watchman below.

"Come along, Josh, that's no concern o yourn; seems to be nothin' but a family affair, arter all-kiss and friends, bey?"

The window was flung down about the quickest the curtains dropped, and Harper went on with his story.

(To be concluded in our next.)

It is

LOW STATE OF THEATRICALS. NEW YORK, Nov. 30.-This has been a week of benefits at the Park Theatre, and we are concerned to add that they have been so in name only. The operatic corps continue in their efforts to produce the most popular music of the day, and it is conceded on all hands, that as a whole, the company is unsurpassed by any English troop of musicians ever playing here, yet there is wanting either the prestige of a name, or the fascination of beauty, or a combination of attractions sufficient to fill the house even on a benefit night. often asked why additions are not made to the company,-why this one or that is not engaged, as though numerical strength would give any efficiency to the personations. incline to the belief that there is but one actor on the English stage who could have any influence in resuscitating the languish ing fortunes of the Park, and that is Macready. Should he be induced again to visit us, we have no doubt his appearance would be hailed with delight, and crowned with success. Now and then we hear it asserted that such will be the case, but never from a source that gives us much hope that our wishes will be realized.

We

It would indeed be singular did not the theatres participate in the general severities of the times; but hard as they are, it will scarcely account for the present depression, unless we believe theatrical amusements are more se riously affected than any other entertainments of the season. Concerts, balls, the circus, the menagerie, &c. &c., are well sustainedlecture-rooms are crowded, and the general festivities of the city neither languish, nor are neglected. Still a fine operatic company, and excellent orchestra, and the most sterling comedians in the country, cannot hold forth sufficient attractions to fill the most eligibly situated theatre in the city; and on Tuesday last, Mr. Price was obliged to call the company together, and to inform them, that he must either close the theatre, or that they must go on two-third salaries; which latter alternative was accepted. The theatre Mr. Wallack took, and fitted up as the National, since the burning down of that theatre,-alluded to in No. of the Miscellany ―has been closed some weeks; also in consequence of nightly losses.

"Time is money," as the man said ven he stole the patent lever watch.

round its base, there may be seen to this day the remains, rifted and gray, and overrun with immemorial ivy, which has, most probably, preserved them from entire ruin, of a tall Norman keep or watch-tower. It evidently never has been large; but in the early years of the thirteenth century, although even then an ancient building, it was entire, and a place of formidable strength. A flanking wall of huge rough stones surrounded its small court-yard, with bartizans projecting at the angles, quite over the face of the precipice, and two small turrets, with many a loop and crenelle, guarding the narrow gate, to which the only access was by a steep and zigzag path, hewn by the pickaxe through the solid rock, and purposely exposed at every traverse to shot of bow and arbalast, both from the castle and its outworks. This perilous approach was liable, moreover, to be swept from end to end by avalanches, as it were, of rocky fragment, which were piled ready at each point of vantage, and that, too, so slightly, that the frailest arm would have sufficed to launch them down the precipitous descent But, at the time with which we have to do, the fortress, although garrisoned,

In the department of Auvergne, the sunniest, and fairest, and most fertile district of fair France, some miles from Monistrol, a narrow, savage, and indented glen, in striking contrast to the broad valley of the superb Loire, which it intersects, affords an outlet to the waters of the Lignon; which hurries down, fretting and chafing, over many a rocky dam, to join the larger river, between stupendous masses of basaltic rock, black, rugged, and austere, yet beautiful and grand in all their varied aspects. Below these mighty walls, reared ages ere the memory of man began, by subterranean fires, the whole slope of the valley, formed by the debris of the slaty rock, is clothed with massive and impervious foliage, through which a difficult but most romantic path ascends, taking the torrent for its guide, toward the little village of Issengeaux. Above this road, which it commands, perched like the eyry of some bird of prey upon the verge of a projecting crag, three hundred feet at least above the waters which perpetually foam and murmur

VOL. I.

8

as might be judged, from the steel-clad warder pacing his round upon the ballium, and the swallow-tailed pennoncelle floating above the keep, was evidently on good terms with the neighbourhood; for its drawbridge was lowered across the deep dry moat, hewn, like the road, out of the solid rock, and the steelclenched and grated leaves of the gate stood wide open. In the small court yard, a groom was leading to and fro a splendid charger of the high breed of Andalusia, which, even at that early age, had been improved by mixture of the Arab blood, introduced by the Moorish victors, coal black, without a single speck of white, except a small star on his brow, with a keen, vicious eye, and a mane that almost swept the ground, when it escaped from the confinement of the iron barbings, which, running all along the neck, connected the bright chamfront with the steel-plated saddle and scaled poitrel. Another menial held the long lance, and small, three-cornered shield, waiting, as it should seem, until the rider might come forth; while several others, pages, and men-at-arms, and one or two girls, seemingly belonging to the household, were loitering round the entrance, admiring the fine horse, and laughing merrily among themselves at fifty trifles, such as youths and maidens have laughed at, and will laugh at still, despite philosophy and common sense to boot, from the creation downward.

In the third story of that ruined keep, accessible even now to an adventurous climber, there is a little chamber, occupying onethird of the area of the tower, irregular in shape, for two of its walls are segments, and the two others radii of a circle; its longest side being the outer wall of the castle, and its two ends, partitions diverging from a central circle, which is occupied through the whole height of the building by a steep, winding staircase. Though small, it is a pleasant spot even now, with three tall lanceolated windows; through which the green leaves of the ivy flutter at every breath of air, commanding a wide prospect of the deep chasm-like valley of the Lignon, from its far mountain cradle down to its confluence with the majestic Loire, which, from that giddy height, may be seen winding its silver way through many a golden corn-field-many a teeming vineyard. In this apartment, de corated with the best skill of that early day, were two young persons, deeply engaged in conversation seemingly of a description the most interesting to their feelings. They were of different sexes, both in the prime of youthful life both eminently handsome; and, though there might be something of resemblance in their high features and rather dark complexions, it was yet the resemblance rather of very distant kindred, or perhaps of dwellers under the same ripe climate, than

of more close connexions. The girl had not seen, certainly, her eighteenth summer; yet she was tall and fully formed; her glowing bust, and all the wavy outlines of that most lovely of all lovely things--her woman figure, developed to the full extent of that volup tuous roundness, which in a colder climate would have betokened a maturer age. Her face was not less perfect than her form, perfectly oval, with large dark Italian eyes, half languor and half fire; a nose, in which the slightest tendency toward the aquiline redeemed the insipid character of the more classic outline; lips exquisitely arched and pouting, with a perpetual dimple playing at either corner; and hair, the most superb that ever added to woman's beauty-dark as the wings of night, and so redundant, that if it had escaped from the confinement of the fillet which restrained it, it would have flowed down to her very feet, veiling her person by its ample waves. Nor was her beauty anywise impaired by the pensive, melancholy attitude which she maintained; as, half reclined on a settee within the embrasure of one of the tall windows, with her chin propped upon an arm of the most perfect symmetry, she suffered her right hand to lie all unresisting in the fervent grasp of her companion; while of her eyes, which were bent earthward, nothing could be discovered but the long silky lashes so exquisitely pencilled in relief on her transparent cheek.— He, too, was young-too young, as it would have seemed from the first glance, for the gilded spurs which showed he had attained already to the rank of knighthood; his hair, like hers, was coal black, but different in this, that it was wreathed above a broad, high forehead with a thousand natural curls; his eyes were also dark, and sparkled with a quickness that showed him prone, at least, to gusts of passion; while the compression of his thin lips told as clearly of a character resolved and positive, as did the deep lines on his brow, and from each nostril downward to the angles of the mouth, speak the dominion of unconquerable passions; still was the whole contour decidedly impressive, and even handsome, though it might well be doubted whether, at an age more advanced, the less attractive features might not predominate. He was attired from the throat downward in a complete suit of chain mail, exquisitely wrought, and yielding to the play of every swelling muscle, polished, too, with such rare skill, that every ring flashed to the early sunbeams, as if it had been wrought of fabled adamant. This dress, however, was only visible at the neck, where it was firmly riveted to a broad gorget of bright steel, and on the arms and legs which it completely covered; these to the wrist, leaving the bony but white hand defenceless; those to the ancles, where it was joined by splented shoes of

the same hard and glistening material. All else was covered by a surcoat, resembling in form a herald's tabard, or the poncho of the South American, of pure white cloth, bisected in the front by a broad cross of scarlet. This over-dress was fastened round the waist by an embroidered belt, through which was thrust a long, stout, two-edged dagger, the only weapon of offence he bore about his person. On a small oaken table, in the centre of the room, were placed his helmet, a cumbrous flat-topped casque, with neither crest nor plume, and his gauntlets, delicately wrought in scale; while his two-handed sword-a massive blade, four feet at least in length, with a cross-handled hilt proportionately large and heavy-rested against it, with a rich baldric trailing down upon the oaken floor.

"A thousand-thousand thanks, sweet Adelaide!" he said, pressing the fair hand which he grasped to his hot lips. "That word hath made me all invincible! that word hath given me the strength, the resolution, to dare all, to endure all, and, by the aid of blessed Mary and her Son, to conquer all!Three years, when passed, are but so many days of retrospection. Three years, sweet Adelaide! three little years, and, by your father's promise-by your own dear avowal, you will be mine-mine own for ever! Is it not so is it not, loveliest ?"

"Have I not said it, Brian ?" she replied, raising her liquid eyes to his, but dropping them again upon the instant, before the glance of fiery passion which encountered hers: "have I not said it, Brian? How often must I promise- how often vow, to satisfy your craving earnestness? Is it that you misdoubt my word? Is it that I have all misread your soul, and that you are, in truth, as they rumour you, jealous unto suspicion-distrustful of all faith?"

"No! no! believe it not," he answered in tones absolutely choked with passionate emotion-"doubt thee! - as soon doubt Heaven!-as soon Heaven's King in all his glory! Doubt thee!-By all the gods, thy name, before three years be flown, shall be acknowledged through every realm of Europe -shall be as widely bruited for the paragon of constancy and beauty, as the four winds can blow the tidings. From the remotest point of Spain, to the blue waters of Byzantium, all shall admit thine eminence! Say only, Adelaide, say only, once again, that thou dost love me!"

"I have said so. I have said so, again and again, Brian! Yet, since it seems nought else will satisfy you-I do! I do! with all my heart and soul, most singly and most wholly, love you!" she exclaimed, a deep crimson flush pervading as she spoke, not her cheeks only, but her brow, her neck, her bosom, and those exquisitively falling shoul

ders, as far as they were visible above the collar of her low velvet boddice-while her full eye met his with so deep an expression of voluptuous passion, and dwelt on his face so languidly, that Brian was emboldened to throw his right hand round her sylph-like waist, and clasp her to his bosom. Nor did the maid resist, but twining her soft arms about his neck, she met his kiss half-way; and, for ten seconds' space, their hearts beat sensibly against each other's boson in tumultuous union, their eyes grew dim with passion, their lips were glued together. But after that one burst of irresistible, uncontrolled phrensy -for love, in its excess, is phrensy-the maiden, extricating herself from his embrace, parted the close curls on his forehead, and imprinted there one long kiss-then arising, with a blush yet deeper than before-"There, Brian, there," she said, playfully smiling, "that must both satisfy thee, and convince! More, I cannot say-more I cannot give thee

and keep thy confidence or love. And now, God speed thee. Let not the lip of woman bear away that kiss which I have left upon thy brow; as I shall keep for thee the burning one which thou hast printed on my lip-nay! rather, on my soul! not e'en my father shall press his mouth to mine, ere your kiss shall release me. And now, God speed thee, Brian. I need not bid thee be foremost ever-for that I know thou wilt! But, oh! be not too rash! Few demoiselles, I trow, need so advise their chevaliers ;-but I know thee too well-too well have marked thy daring, thine enthusiastic, all-pervading valour, to fancy that thy spirit lacks the stimulus of words, more than thy gallant Andalusian needs the spur to urge him to the charge. God speed thee, Brian, and farewell." And even as she spoke, a distant swell of martial music, the prolonged cadences of the shrill trumpet blent with the deep clang of the Norman nakir, came floating on the gentle breeze, from the far valley of the Loire. "There! hear you not," she added, "hear you not, even now, the music of your comrades?-and see! see! there they file, band after band, and banner after banner, across the bridge that spans our valley! Blessed Maria, what a gorgeous train-lo! how their spear-heads twinkle in the sunbeams-how their plate armour flashes!-pennon, and pennoncelle, and banderol wavering and fluttering to the free winds, above a sea of plumage!-there, the square banner of the Great Counts of Auvergne-and there, the Lion flag of Ferrand of Clermont-and Guy de Ponthieu's Ravens-and Tankerville's chained dragon!—and there!—haste, Brian, haste! Do on your helmet quick, and belt your espaldron, and spur Black Tristram to his speed-there floats the oriflamme itself— the gorgeous oriflamme of France, above King Philip and his peers. Linger not

loiter not, my beloved-God speed thee! and farewell! And be thou fortunate, as I will still be faithful, and we shall be a pair hereafter for chroniclers to tell of in set prose, and trouveres to descant upon in lay, and virelay, and sonnet !"

His helmet was braced on-his espaldron was belted-snatching his gauntlets from the table, with the rich scarf, which she had given, bound on his left arm, he cast one long, long glance upon the lady of his heart; and, daring not to trust himself to speak, rushed down the winding staircase, taking three steps at one, his steel shoes clanging, and the point of his huge broadsword clashing and jarring on the stones. He gained the court, and scattering his largesse to the menials, who, cap in hand, saluted him with loud lip-love, vaulted at once into the saddle; dashed like an arrow through the gateway, over the clattering drawbridge; and, at a pace positively fearful, plunged down the steep descent, his horse's hoofs striking at every bound the fire from the flinty road, that rang beneath the fury of his gallop. Once he looked back, just where the traverse from the castle joined the road down the Lignon! A fair round arm was waving from the lattice, where they but now had stood together, a white kerchief; and the proverbially quick eye of the lover fancied it could have recognised that arm of snow among ten thousand. Bowing his helmed head quite to the saddle-bow, he brandished his lance high in air, making the pennoncelle, which graced it, rustle and waver in the sunlit atmosphere, like the flash of a shooting star; and, spurring his hot Andalusian to yet fiercer speed, devoured both hill and valley in his course; and joined his comrades on their way toward the fatal sands of Syria, long ere their rear had passed the high and narrow bridge which spans, even to the present day, the confluence of the Loire and Lignon.

Three years had passed away-passed as the young man had expressed himself to her be loved so dearly, but as so many days of retrospection. That gallant army, which had leaped so dauntlessly ashore from their proud red-cross gallies, had whitened with their bones the pestilential fields of Palestine. Disease, and want, and treason of false friends, and, more than all, dissensions in the host, had marred the progress of that superb array, which-led by the unrivalled Lion-heart, the wise and wary Philip, and scores of other chiefs, whose names were second to these only -had threatened the extermination of the Saracen dominion. Philip Augustus had returned to his paternal kingdom; and was occupied more wisely, if less gloriously, in fixing himself more firmly on his throne than any king, who had sat there since the Great Charles. Richard-who had, reluctant to

depart, lingered with his bold islanders as long as any hope remained-was now a captive in the dungeons of the mean-spirited and vengeful Austrian. None of that lordly expedition yet remained in the land, which the most superstitious now scarcely hoped to win, except the Templars and the Hospitallers, whose vow permitted to them neither peace nor truce, so long as Infidels possessed the city of the Tomb. Three years had passed, and more!—and from the first glad tidings, which reached France of their triumphant debarkation, of their first mighty victory, no ship arrived, but brought reports proving that Brian de Latouche had well made good his boast to Adelaide de Montemar. At Ascalon, it was his lance that bore Iconium's Soldanfrom the saddle-before the leaguered walls of Acre, it was his sword that won Zamor, "the good horse that never failed his rider," the choicest of that breed of Yemen, emphatically styled the winged, in single fight, from the proud Prince of Trebizond, who lost his charger and his life together! And when the axe of England's Lion-heart had dashed the gates of that same city into atoms, forcing its way through heart of oak and bars of steel, as though they had been reeds and pasteboard, it was the foot of Brian de Latouche that pressed the threshold, second to Richard's only. Nay, more! When France had treacherously fallen from the league, though still a few of her best warriors tarried to win them laurels under the flag of their hereditary foe-when, after having relieved Jaffa, that most unequalled hero sustained with "seventeen knights, and three hundred archers,” according to Gibbon, "the charge of sixty thousand Turks, and grasping his lance, rode furiously along their front, from the right to the left wing, without meeting an adversary who dared encounter his career," it was again the hand of Brian de Latouche that couched his spear by Richard's bridle-arm. Nor, when his fame was at the highest, did he forget his plighted word-whenever he couched lance, his cry was "Adelaide de Montemar!"-till, at that cri de guerre alone, a hundred of the boldest mussulmen would draw their reins in terror-till, as the youth had boasted, each knight of the Christian host had heard the fame, and, judging of the beauty by the exploits it produced, had willingly admitted the pre-eminence of her, whose charms and constancy were backed by so strong an arm, and a heart so dauntless, as those of Brian de Latouche.

Three years had passed, and more, when, in a gloomy evening in November-on which the winds, sullenly wailing through the overcast and cloudy sky, were whirling the sere leaves from every tree- a stately knight, followed by four attendants-two of them negro slaves, with caftan, scymetar, and turban! two Christian men-at-arms, in plate and mail!