A NIGHT OF TERROR.

[This story is partly translated, partly imitated, from the French. The French author, I suppose, was indebted to some German original. It is no great matter, so the reader likes it. Let us therefore, without further preface, begin.]

I.

You will recollect that, three years ago, we had a dreadful winter throughout Europe. It was severe in those quarters where the climate is usually genial; in the north it was absolutely dreadful. My sister and I were on a visit to our old friend, the Princess N-, at her Lithuanian castle. The thing was arranged that Adelaide was to be married to the Princess's son, Sobieski, who was daily expected from Spain. I suppose my sister looked forward to the arrival with more impatience than the rest of the party; and certainly its male portion were far more interested in hunting the wolf all the morning through the snows, and drinking down the fatigues of the chase in the evening over the fire, than in anything connected with the tender passion.

The wished for morning arrived at last. Sobieski appeared in the castle of his ancestors amid the acclamations of an admiring peasantry, to be kissed by his mother, shaken hands with by his friends, and looked at, I suppose, by his betrothed. Foreign travel had improved him, and a single year had sufficed to turn the handsome stripling into a fine and noble-looking young man. The Princess was happy, Adelaide was happy, Sobieski was happy, we all were happy: but the happiness was destined to be of short duration; for we had hardly risen from breakfast when a wearied courier arrived, bringing in the melancholy information that my father had been suddenly taken ill in Bohemia, and that our attendance was instantly required, as his life was despaired of. It was of course necessary that we should start on the instant; no time could be lost, and our arrangements for departure were made with the utmost rapidity. Sobieski wished to have gone with us; but how could he leave his mother, whom he had only seen for two or three hours after a year's absence? Besides, why expose him to the trouble and inconvenience of the journey? If, as we hoped, we found the alarm exaggerated, it would be easy to send for him, or to return: if the event were what our fears suggested, it was arranged that my sister's future home was to be that of the Princess. Adelaide and Sobieski had a long private interview before we parted. What they said I do not know; but it would not be hard to guess at what was the tenor of their conversation. With much reluctance he gave his consent to remain behind; but, farewell is a word that has been, and must be; it was spoken at last, and we set off in our travelling carriage about six in the morning through the snowy roads of Lithuania leading through the great forest.

We got over the short day without any adventures different from what might be expected. Our carriage sometimes stuck in the snow, sometimes narrowly escaped being upset by the stump of a tree. Relays on the road were few, and the people at the post-houses seemed half-frozen, and afraid to open their mouths. We were tole

3

rably independent of them for supplies, as we had been sufficiently stored before we started on our route. We left the last post-house about six in the evening, with a pair of fine, strong, young horses, fit to contend with the night difficulties of the forest road. Those difficulties did not appear to be in any degree remarkably formidable. The full moon, just risen, cast a bright light all around, and a strong frost having set in, the path was hard and practicable. Our driver, an old retainer of the Princess, knew the forest well: for forty years, as chasseur or courier, postilion or coachman, he had traversed it at all hours of the day and night, and was as well acquainted with every "dingle and bosky bourne of the wild wood" as with his own stables. I forgot to say that, besides Adelaide and myself, her favorite French maid occupied the interior of the voiture. Heinrich smoked, whistled, and cracked his whip in solitary dignity without. There being nothing in the scenery or its associations to captivate the Parisian soul of Louise, who had done due justice to the contents of our basket while we changed horses, she speedily dropped into a profound slumber, to dream, I suppose, of the glories of the Palais Royal, and to transport herself from the woods and snows of Lithuania to the parterre of some theatre on the Boulevards. She soon gave us audible information that she was far away in the land of dreams, and that, if her slumbers were not melancholy, they were at least musical.

Let it not be imagined that my more delicate companion or myself permitted Louise to enjoy our basket-stored repast without cooperation. Our spirits were severely depressed; the dreaded death of a beloved father filled us both with sorrow and apprehension, and Adelaide in parting with Sobieski had her peculiar sources of grief. But it is a sad truth, that all the most sentimental emotions of the mind give place when the most unsentimental organ of the body makes its demand upon our attention; and the bracing air of the forest had largely contributed to the sharpening of the appetite. The subtantial dainties of the Princess, aided by some generous hock, somewhat assisted in my case by a fair proportion of brandy, disposed us also to slumber, and Adelaide fell asleep on my shoulder. Her sleeping thoughts reverted in all probability to a certain Northern castle frowning over the flood, garnished with tower and turret, buttress and bulwark, fosse, and rampart, drawbridge and portcullis, and every other adjunct of feudal war; but in which was also the picture-studded corridor, the gay salon, and, above all, the soft bourdoir, where sounds more fitted for the ladies' ear than the clashing of arms were uttered; round which were formed trellised gardens, where bouquets such as the North affords were culled, and where sauntering walks by morning-light or moonbeam made life forgotten; or spreading parks and chases, where some rode together who thought of other joys than those which the sylvan sports afforded. For my part, my mind wandered to the possible change of my mode of life and position in society. I loved my father with an affection which few sons feel: I admired the lustre of his military career; our house had been honored by the fame he had won and the high repute he enjoyed; and I looked back with mingled love and reverence on the uniform kindness which I had experienced at his hands;-but, I confess, I could not keep myself from thinking what I should do with the family estates when they

came into my possession, of the mode in which I was to regulate my conduct, of the figure I was to cut at court, of the way I was to spend the next year,-of-of-of something else that it is now not necessary to speak about. In vain I reproached myself with thinking of any. thing but the impending death of a dear and honored father. As I dropped into drowsy half-waking, half-sleeping fits of dreaminess, other visions would occur, and it was only when I roused myself to look out of the voiture to see how we got on, that a sensation of sorrow would take possession of my mind. On my shoulder still slept Adelaide, on the other side snored Louise; outside smoked Heinrich, thinking, I take it for granted, of nothing but his horses, and these he drove steadily along.

On a sudden, however, it seemed as if they afforded him more than ordinary trouble. I was awaked from one of my noddings by hearing him devoting them to the infernal gods, in all the mingled dialects of Poland, Russia, and Germany, and that for a crime which seldom awakens the indignation of a traveller in these regions. In spite of all his exertions, they had burst into a furious gallop. He cursed, and swore, and pulled, and tugged, but in vain. With alarmed eye and erected ear, the eager horses disregarded the utmost effort of curb and bridle, and dragged us forward with a velocity I should have thought beyond their powers. As there was no danger of accident, I was rather amused by the unexpected vigor of our steeds, and the indignation of the usually phlegmatic Heinrich at their apostacy from the regulated pace of the road. All on a sudden, however, our driver ceased to swear, and, uttering a hasty ejaculation, something half-way between a prayer and a curse, exclaimed,

"The beasts are right-right, by a thousand devils right! I should have guessed it long ago.

And so saying, he surrendered to them the reins, no longer endeavoring to control their rapidity. I asked him what he meant. Turning cautiously round, and whispering so as not to disturb my sister, he breathed rather than he spoke into my ear,

"They are coming."

"Who-who?" said I; "who are coming? being in sight."

"I did not say there was," replied Heinrich ; in sight. But don't you hear them?"

There is not a human

"and they are scarce

"I hear nothing," said 1, "but the whistling of the wind and the crushing of our own carriage through the snow.'

66

"Hark?" interrupted Heinrich, dropping his pipe: "they are coming, by" But he suppressed the oath, and crossed himself instead. 'Ay, there they are: I see thern plain enough now." "The last glass of brandy is in your head, Heinrich. hear? What do you see? Who are they?"

What do you

Profoundly inclining his head, he whispered with a thrilling emphasis,

"THE WOLVES !"

II.

I removed Adelaide from my shoulder as gently as I could, so as not to awaken her, and, standing up in the voiture, looked in the direction pointed out by Heinrich. I looked, however, for a while in vain. I saw a dark mass at a distance in the snow, but, as the

sister to her natural firmness of mind. She felt that in this trying occasion it became her to set an example of courage and resignation, and in an instant, (the whole scene I have been just describing did not occupy two minutes,) she was herself again. She assured me in a couple of words of her constancy, and pressed my hand to her heart to show that it was not beating with any undue emotion.

46

It is no time to agitate you now, Herman," she said; "our chances of escape, I know, are but small: but still, people have escaped from dangers as dreadful, and, under God, our hopes principally depend upon your presence of mind. Our defence is in your hands, and there I am content to leave it. With these words she turned to her shrieking attendant, whom she endeavored to soothe with all the topics of consolation-they were few enough in all conscience -she could think of, and to engage in some thoughts of religion, but all equally in vain Louise could hear nothing but the howling of the wolves outside, and the howling of her own fears within.

The chase continued. I stood ready with my blunderbuss to discharge it on the herd the moment they approached within shot. I had too soon an opportunity. The fleetest of the pack in a few minutes approached within four or five paces of the voiture, and I fired. It was impossible to miss, and I saw two or three fall killed or wounded. To those who were hit it was soon matter of little importance whether the wound which brought them down was mortal or not, for they were in an instant surrounded by the rest, who fought for the fallen bodies. This obtained us the respite of a few minutes, which was occupied by the contest among themselves and the devouring of their slain brethren. We made the best of the time; but, the carcasses once demolished, and the bones left to whiten in the snow, the hunt recommenced, and we had not gained a mile when they came up with us again. My blunderbuss had been reloaded in the mean while, and on their near approach I again fired, with similar effect. But this time the respite was briefer. The wolves had now tasted blood, and their fury was excited, so that the devouring of their companions did not occupy half the space it did before, and speedily they renewed the chase with howlings far more terrific than

ever.

I appealed to Heinrich, who drove his panting horses at their utmost speed.

"I have not," I said, " enough for another charge for the blunderbuss. What is best to be done?"

"It is of no use," said he, "to fire our fowling-pieces among them, for we could not expect to kill more than one, and that, so far from delaying, would only spur them on faster. We had better re

serve our fire for our last chance."

"Is there any?"

"One, and that but slight. Not far from this, but I do not know how far, perhaps a mile, perhaps three, is the old hunting-lodge built for the chasseurs of the forest. If we could reach that,—but what use is there in talking?-you see these poor devils of horses can scarcely hold out-they are almost sinking under the hell of a pace they have been keeping up this half-hour. Have you your pis

tols about you?"

I have; why ?"

"Do not discharge your last pistol on any account; no, not to save your own life. Keep it until