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woman, teacher and learner, the greater and the from you I have learned, what else I might never less.

have done, reverence for man. God bless you

with a life full of honor and fame, and, what is " Another sitting, and the miniature will be rarer still, happiness !” She half sighed, extendcomplete, I fear," murmured Norman, with a ed her hand without looking toward him; he conscience-stricken look, as he bent over me, his clasped it a moment, and then-she was gone! fair hair almost touching my ivory. A caress, My master stared dizzily round, fell on his sweet, though no longer new to me; for many a knees beside me, and groaned out the anguish of time his lips—but this is telling tales, so no more! his spirit. His only words were, “ Jean, Jean, My painted, yet not soulless eyes, looked at my so good, so pure! Thou the Earl's daughter, master as did others of which mine were but the and I the poor artist !” As he departed he moanpoor shadow. Both eyes, the living and the life-ed them out once more, kissed passionately my less, were now dwelling on his countenance, which unresponsive image, and fled; but not ere the I have not yet described, nor need I. Never yet Lady Jean, believing him gone, and coming to was there a beautiful soul that did not stamp upon fetch the precious likeness, had silently entered the outward man some reflex of itself; and there and seen him thus. fore, whether Norman Bethune's face and figure | She stood awhile in silence, gazing the way he were perfect or not, matters not.

had gone, her arms folded on her heaving breast. " It is nearly finished,” mechanically said the She whispered to herself, “Oh! noble heart! Lady Jean. She looked dull that day, and her Oh! noble heart !" and her eyes lightened, and eyelids were heavy as with tears—tears which (as a look of rapturous pride, not pride of rank, dawnI heard many a whisper say) a harsh father gave ed in the face of the Earl's daughter. Then she her just cause to shed.

too knelt, and kissed me, but solemnly, even with “Yes, yes, I ought to finish it,” hurriedly re- tears. plied the artist, as if more in answer to his own | The next day, which was to have been that of thoughts than to her, and he began to paint ; but her forced marriage with Sir Anthony, Lady Jean evermore something was wrong. He could not had fled. She escaped in the night, taking with work well ; and then the Lady Jean was sum- her only her old nurse and me, whom she hid in moned away, returning with a weary look, in her bosom. which wounded feeling struggled with pride. “You would not follow the poor artist to wed Once, too, we plainly heard (I know my master him?” said the nurse. did, for he clinched his hands the while) the “Never!" answered the Lady Jean. “I would Earl's angry voice, and Sir Anthony's hoarse live alone by the labor of my hands; but I will laugh; and when the Lady Jean came back, it keep true to him till my death. For my father, was with a pale, stern look, pitiful in one so who has cursed me, and cast me off, here I reyoung. As she resumed the sitting her thoughts nounce my lineage, and am no longer an Earl's evidently were wandering, for two great tears daughter.” stole into her eyes, and down her cheeks. Well- So went she forth, and her place knew her no a-day! my master could not paint them; but he more. felt them in his heart. His brush fell—his chest | heaved with emotion-he advanced a step, mur For months, even years, I lay shut up in darkmuring, “ Jean, Jean," without the “ Lady;"ness, scarcely ever exposed to the light of day; then recollected himself, and, with a great strug- but I did not murmur; I knew that I was kept, gle, resumed his brush, and went painting on. as you mortals keep your hearts' best treasures, She had never once looked or stirred.

in the silence and secrecy of love. Sometimes,

late at night, pale, wearied hands would unclasp The last sitting came it was hurried and brief, my coverings, and a face, worn indeed, but hav. for there seemed something not quite right in the ing a sweet repose, such as I had never seen in house ; and as we came to the castle, Norman that of the former Lady Jean, would come and and I (for he had got into the habit of always bend over me with an intense gaze, as intense as taking me home with him) heard something about that of Norman Bethune, under which I had “ a marriage,” and “Sir Anthony." I felt my glowed into life. Poor Norman ! if he had but poor master shudder as he stood.

known! The Lady Jean rose to bid the artist adieu. All this while I never heard my master's name. She had seemed agitated during the sitting at Lady Jean (or Mistress Jean as I now heard her times, but was quite calm now.

called) never uttered it, even to solitude and me. "Farewell,” she said, and stretched out her But once, when she had shut herself up in her hand to him with a look, first of the Earl's daugh-poor chamber, she sat reading some papers with ter, then of the woman only; the woman, gentle, smiles, oftener with loving tears, and then placed kindly, even tender, yet never forgetting herself the fragments with me in my hiding-place; and or her maidenly reserve.

80some magic bond existing between my mas"I thank you," she added, “not merely for ter and me, his soul's child-I saw, shining in this (she laid her hand on me), but for your com- the dark, the name of Norman Bethune, and read panionship;" and she paused as if she would fain all that Lady Jean had read. He had become a have said friendship, yet feared. “You have great man, a renowned artist ; and these were done me good; you have elevated my mind; and the public chronicles of his success. I, the pale reflex of the face which Norman had loved--the bonnie Lady Jean, whose girlish portrait he once face which, more than any other in the wide world, drew. would brighten at the echo of his fame-even my Norman spoke again ; and speaking, his grave faint being became penetrated with an almost hu- manhood seemed to concentrate all its subdued man joy.

passion in the words : One night Lady Jean took me out with an ag- . “ Years have changed, in some measure, my itated hand. She had doffed her ordinary dress, fortunes at least, though not me. l-once the which now changed the daughter of an Earl into unknown artist-now sit at princely tables, and the likeness of a poor gentlewoman. She looked visit in noble halls. I am glad; for honor to me something like her olden self-like me; the form is honor to my art, as it should be.” And his of the dress was the same; I saw she made it face was lifted with noble pride. “But," he scrupulously like; but there was neither velvet, added, in a beautiful humility, “though less unnor lace, nor pearls, only the one red rose, as you worthy toward men, I am still unworthy toward may see in me, was once more placed in her bo- you. If I were to woo you, I should do so, not som.

as an artist who cared to seek an Earl's daughter, “I am glad to find my child at last won out but as a man who felt that his best deserts were into society," said the nurse, hobbling in; "though poor, compared to those of the woman he has the folk she will meet, poor authors, artists, mu- loved all his life, and honored above all the world." sicians, and such like, are unmeet company for Very calm she stood--very still, until there ran the Lady Jean."

a quiver over her face-over her whole frame. “ But not for simple Jean Douglas," she an- “Jean-Jean !" cried Norman Bethune, as the swered, gently smiling--the smile not of girlhood, forced composure of his speech melted from it, but of matured womanhood, that has battled with and became transmuted into the passion of a man and conquered adversity; and, when the nurse who has thrown his whole life's hope upon one had gone, she took me out again, murmuring, chance, “ if you do not scorn me-nay, that you “I marvel will he know me now?"

can not do--but if you do not repulse me—if you I heard her come home that night. It was will forget your noble name, and bear that which, {ate ; but she took me up once more, and looked with God's blessing, I will make noble—ay, noat me with a strange joy, though mingled with bler than any of your earls !--if you will give up tears; yet the only words I heard her say were all dreams of the halls where you were born, to those she had uttered once before in the dim years take refuge in a lowly home, and be cherished in past—“Oh! noble heart!--thrice noble heart !" a poor man's loving breast-then, Jean Douglas, and then she fell on her knees and prayed.

come !"

"I will !” she answered. My dear master!-the author of my being !- He took her in his protecting arms; all the I met his eyes once more. He took me in his strong man's pride fell from him—he leaned over hand, and looked at me with a playful compas- her, and wept. sion, not quite free from emotion.

“ And this was how I painted it! It was! For weeks, months afterward, nobody thought scarce worth keeping, Lady Jean."

of me. I might have expected it; and yet someMistress Jean, I pray you ; that name best how it was sad to lie in my still darkness, and suits me now, Mr. Bethune," she said, with gen- never to be looked at at all. But I had done my tle dignity.

work, and was content. I knew my master's face well. I had seen it At last I was brought from my hiding-place, brighten with the most passionate admiration as and indulged with the light of day. I smiled beit turned on the Lady Jean of old; but never did neath the touch of Lady Jean, which even now I see a look such as that which fell on Jean Doug- had a lingering tenderness in it-more for me las now-earnest, tender, calm-its boyish idol- than for any other of her best treasures. atry changed into that reverence with which a “Look, Norman, look !” she said, stretching man turns to the woman who to him is above all ont to him her left hand. As I lay therein, I felt women. In it one could trace the whole life's the golden wedding-ring press against my smooth history of Norman Bethune.

ivory. " Jean," he said, so gently, so naturally, that Norman put down his brush, and came smiling she hardly started to hear him use the familiar to his young wife's side. name, “have you in truth given up all ?" | “What! do you keep that still? Why, Jean,

“Nay, all have forsaken me, but I fear not; what a boyish daub it is! The features nearly though I stand alone, hcaven has protected me, I approach Queen Elizabeth's beau ideal of art, as and will, evermore."

she commanded her own portrait to be drawn. " Amen!” said Norman Bethune. "Pardon 'Tis one broad light, without a single shadow. me; but our brief acquaintance-a few weeks And look how ill drawn are the shoulders, and then, a few weeks now seems to comprehend a what an enormous awkward string of pearls." lifetime.”

Jean snatched me up and kissed me. "You And he took her hand, but timorously, as if shall not, Norman-I will hear no blame of the she were again the Earl's daughter, and he the poor miniature. I love it, I tell you—and you poor artist. She too trembled and changed color, love it, too. Ah! there." And she held me playless like the pale, serene Jean Douglas, than the fully to my maker's lips (which now I touched not

for the first time, as he knew well). “When we ous over the lightest thought of one they love. grow rich, it shall be set in gold and garnets, and But Jean put her arm in his, with a look so seI will wear it every time my husband ceases to rene, so clear, that he stooped down and kissed remember the days when he first taught me to love her yet scarce-faded cheek. him, and in loving bim, to love all that was noble “Go, my own wife-go and tell our daughter in man."

all." And then Norman But I do not see that I ] Jean Bethune and her child went out together, have any business to reveal further.

When they returned, there was a proud glow on

Anne's cheek--she looked so like her mother, or I did attain to the honor of gold and garnets, rather so like me. She walked down the studio; and, formed into a bracelet, I figured many a time it was a large room, where hung pictures that on the fair arm of Jean Bethune, who, when peo- might well make me fear to claim brotherhood ple jested with her for the eccentricity of wearing with them, though the same hand created them her own likeness, only laughed, and said that she and me. Anne turned her radiant eyes from one did indeed love the self that her husband loved, for to the other, then went up to the artist and emhis sake. So years went by, until fairer things braced him. than bracelets adorned the arms of the painter's “ Father, I had rather be your daughter than wife, and she came to see her own likeness in share the honors of all the Douglasses." dearer types than my poor ivory. So her orna- | Anne Bethune wore me, year after year, until ments—myself among the rest—were slowly put the fashion of me went by, till her young daughby; and at last I used to die for months untouch- ters, in their turn, began to laugh at my ancient ed, save by tiny baby-fingers, which now and then setting, and always aside-to mock at the rude poked into the casket to see " mamma's picture.” | Art of “ grandmamma's" days. But this was

At length there came a change in my destiny. never in grandmamma's presence, where still I It was worked by one of those grandest of revolu- found myself at times; and my pale eyes beheld tionists—a young lady entering her teens. the face of which my own had once been a mere

“ Mamma, what is the use of that ugly brace-shadow-but of which the shadow was now left let?" I heard one day. “Give me the miniature as the only memorial. to have made into a brooch. I am sixteen-quite “And was this indeed you, grandmamma?" old enough to wear one, and it will be so nice to many an eager voice would ask, when my poor Whave the likeness of my own mamma.".

self was called into question. "Were you ever Mrs. Bethune could refuse nothing to her eld- this young girl ; and did you really wear these est daughter-her hope-her comfort—her sister. beautiful pearls, and live in a castle, and hear like companion. So, with many an anxious charge yourself called the Lady Jean?!" concerning me, I was dispatched to the jeweler's. And grandmamma would lay down her spectaI hate to be touched by strangers, and during the cles, and look pensively out with her calm, beauwhole time of my sojourn at the jeweler's, I shut | tiful eyes. Oh! how doubly beautiful they seemup my powers of observation in a dormouse-like ed in age, when all other loveliness bad gone. doze, from which I was only awakened by the Then she would gather her little flock round her, eager fingers of Miss Anne Bethune, who had and tell, for the hundredth time, the story of herrushed with me into the painting-room, calling on self and Norman Bethune-leaning gently, as papa 2nd.amma to admire an old friend in a with her parent-feelings she had now learnt to do, new face.

on the wrongs received from her own father, and .!' Is thal the dear old miniature ?" said the lingering with ineffable tenderness on the noble artist.

nature of him who had won her heart, more The husband and wife looked at me, then at through that than even by the fascination of his one another, and smiled. Though both now glided genius. She dwelt oftener on this, when, in her into middle age, yet in that affectionate smile I closing years, he was taken before her to his rest; saw gevive the faces of Norman Bethune and the and while the memory of the great painter was Lady Jean.

honored on earth, she knew that the pure soul of "I do believe there is something talismanic in the virtuous man awaited her, his beloved, in the portrait,” said young Anne, their daughter. I heaven. “To-day, at the jeweler's, I was stopped by a dis- " And yet, grandmamma," once said the most agreeable old gentleman, who stared at me, and inquisitive of the little winsome elves whom tho then at the miniature, and finally questioned me old lady loved, who, with me in her hand, had about my name and my parents, until I was fairly lured Mrs. Bethune to a full hour's converse about wearied of his impertinence. A contemptible, olden days — “Grandmamma, looking back on malicious-eyed creature he looked ; but the jew- your long, long life, tell me, do you not feel cler paid him all attention, „since, as I afterward proud of your ancient lineage? and would you deernt, he was Sir Anthony A , who succeeded not like to have it said of you that you were an to all the estates of his cousin, the Earl of ." Earl's daughter ?"

Mrs. Betbune put me down on the table, and “No!" she answered. “Say, rather, that I Leaned her head on her hand; perhaps some mem- was Norman Bethune's wife." ories of ber youth came over her on hearing those long-silent names. Her husband glanced at her I waked, and found myself gazing on the blank with a restless doubt--some men will be so jeal- white curtains, from whence the fantasmal image of the Lady Jean had all melted away. But still, | manded, in the short, trumpet tone of the quarterthrough the mystic stillness of dawn, I seemed to deck. have a melancholy ringing in my ears—a sort of No answer. echo of Gylbyn's cry — "Lost - lost - lost !" ! " I tell ye what it is, my men," continued the Surely it was the unquiet ghost of the miniature, officer, getting warm. “I'll have an answer out thus beseeching restitution to its original owners. of some one. Here, quarter-master, tell me di• Rest thee, perturbed spirit !" said I, addressing rectly, who dared to ring that bell?" the ornament that now lay harmlessly on my The man thus appealed to gaped with astondressing-table--a brooch, and nothing more. ishment, for he had, like every man aboard, heard « Peace! Though all other means have failed, the singular peal. Yet he was perfectly aware perhaps thy description going out into the world that no person had touched the bell; and as the of letters may procure thy identification. Ha !- sounds appeared to him to come from the direcI have it I will write thy autobiography." tion where it was placed, he was as much puz

Reader, it is done. I have only to add that the zled as the officer to account why it had been miniature was found in Edinburgh, in August, struck or rung in such an unaccountable manner. 1849, and will be gladly restored to the right own- Finding that the quarter-master still hesitated, er, lest the unfortunate author should be again the officer said, visited by the phantom of Lady Jean.

“Come, my man, tell me who rang that bell?"

“Well, then, I don't know, sir," solemnly reTHE SUPERSTITIONS OF SAILORS. plied the seaman ; " leastways," he continued. SOME years ago a British frigate, mounting awkwardly scraping his hair, " I 'spose 'twas n't

fifty guns, and manned by four hundred of done by any human fingers : 'cos ye see, sir, I old England's hardiest seamen-men fit to face was just about to make it twelve o'clock myself, any danger, or thrash any human foe-lay be- when the duty was took clean out of my hands, calmed on a bright sunny day in the middle of by some invisible power, as it seems to me-". the Atlantic Ocean, hundreds of miles away from " Invisible power, was it? Well, perhaps it any land. Not a breath of wind disturbed the was ; but I'll stop his grog if I find him out ; so dog-vane, not a ripple was upon the sea ; the come, that yarn won't do for me. Again I man at the wheel stood idle and listless, the can- say, who dared to ring the ship's bell in that vas flapped against the masts powerless, and the way ?" tall spars towered up into the bland air as mo- | Again the quarter-master solemnly avowed that tionless as if they were growing in their native unless it was a freak of old Neptune, Davy Jones, forests. The vast expanse of the ocean was like or the Flying Dutchman, that he did not know a sheet of glass, gently broken into tiny ripples who did it. by the dark pointed fin of the stealthy shark, as : As the quarter-master was a steady hand, not he slowly moved along in quest of his prey. given to liquor, and one of the best men in the Ever and anon a long rolling swell swept over ship, there was no reason to suspect him of false the surface of the sea at regular, though distant hood; besides, the ship's bell was hung in open intervals, and but for this all-but imperceptible view of the quarter-deck, and seen by all hands. motion, nature seemed asleep, and the heavings “Strange !” muttered the lieutenant, and he and settings of the water might be taken for the looked over the ship's side. Others followed his deep-drawn respirations of some enormous ani- example at the bow and stern of the vessel, as mal.

though they expected to find a boat there. AcThe frigate was alone, no other sail dotted the tive topmen ran up the rigging, but nothing could sea within the scope of her horizon. All was be seen but the gently heaving sea, the fair blue silent, solemn, and calm ; when in the midst of sky, and the clouds. this stillness, the attention of the crew, on deck By this time the captain, astonished at the and below, was suddenly arrested by the loud unusual noise and bustle on deck, for he had and distinct ringing of a bell. Clang, clang, also heard the vehement ringing of the bell, had clang, it went, to the amazement of many, and left his cabin, and was silently listening to the the astonishment of all.

inquiries made by his lieutenant. This last. There was something so extraordinary in the named officer now reported in due form to his sound that it startled all hands. There was no superior what had occurred, but that he had describing it. At first it appeared to come from failed to detect the offender for the present. a distance, and then from the ship's bell, for the Our captain was one of the peppery breednoise was clear and loud ; and, but for a slightly hasty, but good-natured-a strict disciplinarian, muffled tone, might have been, as indeed it was, and a thorough seaman. He heard the lieutenmistaken for the bell of the frigate. Yet who ant, then the quarter-master, and one or two of had dared to strike the ship's bell, violently and the waisters, describe what they knew of the without orders? And the officer of the watch, matter ; but as all their statements amounted to as soon as he had overcome the intense astonish nothing, he out the affair short by ordering every ment such a breach of naval discipline had occa- man in the watch to have his grog stopped until sioned, demanded, sternly

the culprit was found. “Who rang that bell?”

Clang, clang, clang, wont the bell again, as No answer was given.

soon as the words were out of the captain's “ Who rang that bell, I say?" he again de- mouth. Well, of course the captain was petri

fied, so was the lieutenant ; and as for the quar- the ship; but the majority were incredulous, and ter-master and the rest of the watch, it would be suspected the whole affair was a trick ; but then, difficult to describe their sensations, for they how could it be performed? And in order to were a compound of terror at the sound of the settle all doubts upon that point, the bell was bell, and joy at the prospect of having the stop- unhooked and placed upon the deck ; but neverpage taken off their grog; for of course the cap- theless the same mysterious clang, clang, clang, tain could now judge for himself who it was that ran fore and aft the ship. was having a freak with his bell.

It was now evident that the sounds did not “ This is very unaccountable,” said the cap- come from the ship's bell ; and being satisfied tain.

upon that point, the investigation was pushed in “Very," replied the lieutenant.

another direction. Luckily for us all, we had a “ Young gentleman,” said the captain, “go purser of a scientific turn in the frigate. He was below and inquire if any one sounded a bell just one of those idlers belonging to a ship of war, now between decks."

who, having no sea duties to perform, are, neverAy, ay, sir,” and the midshipman of the theless, always busy. He was always studying watch dived down the after-hatchway, and there something; and he now stepped forth and ashe found every body asking every body the very sured us that the sounds which had so puzzled question he came himself to ask; nobody knew all hands were caused by some strange vessel at any thing about the matter.

a distance. As soon as the youngster came on deck he re- “But no ship is in sight,” remarked the first ported accordingly.

| luff, in an incredulous tone. From whence then could these sounds pro- “No matter," said the purser. ceed? No bell, by the ordinary mode of convey- “Why we can see miles, from the mast-head, ing sound, could be heard from the distance they in every direction, and not an inch of canvas is could see. Even while the whole of the ship's visible.” company were palpitating with excitement, the in- “No matter," doggedly said the purser. “One explicable sounds continued-clang, clang, clang. of two things is certain," he continued : “ the

The crew now crowded on deck-midshipmen, sounds either proceed from the frigate's bell, or marines, doctor, purser, cook, and idlers. The from some ship's bell not at present in sight. men stood at a respectful distance from the sacred You admit that, I presume ?" precincts of the quarter-deck; but giving the “Well,” said the captain, “ go on." mysterious bell a wide berth, not so much from “And you do not believe with the quarterfear as to remove all doubt about touching it, and master that Neptune, Davy Jones, or the Flying to keep out of (h)arm's way of having their grog Dutchman have any hand in the matter?" stopped.

| The officers didn't believe they had, evidently Presently the same loud ringing was heard giving way before the reasoning of the purser. again ; this time it floated high over head, and “ Well, then," continued he; “if these reincreased in intensity, and then it died away in markable sounds do not proceed from this ship's long cadences, only to be renewed with fresh bell, and you discard supernatural agency, then energy. Now it sounded broad upon the bow the inference is, that they must come from some -now upon the beam, and then astern-while ship in the distance. the whole of this time there hung the ship's bell, “But how?" inquired the first lieutenant, triseen by all, and untouched.

umphantly. “Explain that if you can." Astonishment sat upon every countenance, “In this way,” calmly replied the purser. “In from the captain to the cook's mate, and it was the theory of sound there is a known principle, pretty evident that it would have been a relief called, I believe, the acoustic tube." to have exchanged the anxiety produced by their “What's that ?" demanded the officers. invisible enemy for a rattling broadside with the “Why, your speaking trumpet—the speaking most spanking frigate that ever floated. Many a pipe by which messages are conveyed from one man believed they heard the ship's knell, and part of a large building to another—whispering many a hardy tar grew pale.

galleries, in which the softest sound is carried The bell now ceased for a time, and a capstan round vast areas, as the dome of St. Paul'sma consultation was instituted among the oldest sea- thunder-clap-or the discharge of a gun on an men and officers in the ship. Nothing of the elevated situation, which produces an echo from kind had ever been heard in all their experience cliff to cliff, are familiar examples of this prinat sea before. One old forecastle man admitted ciple." that he had seen the Flying Dutchman, that he " But we have no cliffs within hundreds of was sartin of; another equally observant son of miles to repeat the echo," remarked the captain. Neptune had seen (or else he was blind) a mer- ' “ True," said the purser; “but we have maid ; many had heard all sort of dismal noises clouds." in great storms, and seen large fires at night! “Clouds !" burning upon the sea; but as for the bell-ringing, “Yes, clouds!" echoed the man of science; they had never heard of the like before. Among “for in all matters where reason is concerned, the officers there were many opinions as to the the best demonstrations must be adopted as the place from whence the sounds came; some be- heir-apparent to truth; so now, the most probalieved they proceeded from above, others from ble conjecture is, that this large mass of cloud,

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