the melody of the night warbling bird that pours its tuneful song upon the ravished ear, had not more

sweetness in the sound than both these female voices had to the listening ear of Sir Walter De Ruthen.

Yet, they were so deeply veiled, that he could only discern, as the rays of the bright beaming moon fell on the white dresses in which they were clad, that they were females of exalted 'rank, but the features of each were hidden from his view; and, softly letting the curtain fall in the same direction as it was before, that he might not be observed, he applied his ear close to the casement, and caught, at different intervals, the subject on which they were conversing, although it was conveyed in low and whispering sentences: yet the name of St. Julian was audibly pronounced by one of them, and in the following manner :

"Oh! my Antoinette! friend of my bosom! sister of my earliest dawn of youthful infancy! how do I grieve to tell you of my mother's cruelty-of my mother's injustice towards St. Julian! Ah, how my heart pants to redress his wrongs; how my tongue swells with rapture at his praise. But, ob, Antoinette, would you think that my mother has this day denied him succour or assistance in his so perilous and forlorn stateshe has refused the supplies he has so humbly implored for the exhausted troops, that lay expiring on the ensanguined plains-even to the brave herald, his faithful page, Sir Walter De Ruthen, whom be sent hither, to entreat her friendship and her assistance. Oh, my Antoinette, how doth my heart melt with pity, and yet how unable am I to help his cause. She questioned me, sternly too, on the love I bore for St. Julian; and wondered much that our young

hearts should e'er be twined together, or I for him should ever breathe a sigh:me, who loved St. Julian more than the light of heaven; and my dear father warranted this affection. I was taught to love St. Julian, long ere I knew the name of love; and I have treasured him so dearly in my virgin bosom, that I think my heart will shortly break, if I never more behold him. Benvolio, too, the holy priest, whose counsels and whose friendship my mother so reveres,― he tells me, it is a crying sin to heaven to think of love; but I have thought that heaven was more kind, than to punish me for what I could not help; for I no more could help loving St. Julian, than I could help loving thee, my Antoinette, though the love I bear for him, and thee, are widely different. And, know you not what my mother and the holy father have been commanding me? Dost thou not know the promise I have partly made them, to become a virgin saint, and pass my life in holy exercises, in the sequestered bowers of the convent of

MARIETTE MOULINE?"

A death-like silence for some minutes prevailed, unbroken even by the voice of the whispering wind, till a response was at length mournfully made by the companion of the beauteous daughter of Albino, the Lady Augustina; for that it was she, Sir Walter could no longer doubt.

"A virgin saint in the bowers of the convent of Mariette Mouline! Almighty powers and do I hear you rightly? and will my Augustina sign her passport to misery, for mockery like this? Doth heaven require such sacrifices as these, for the security of virtue? Are there, then, no bounds but an utter renun

ciation of all the blessings-of all the comforts-that heaven, in its goodness, hath given and provided for all earthly creatures; the birds of the air, the beasts of the field, the fishes that swim in the wide éxpanse of ocean, do they not all enjoy the privileges and the sweets of nature? and, thinkest thou, to man or woman it is denied? or, that they should hide them in holy convents or religious sanctuaries, (so falsely termed) to fly from the exercises of virtue and humanity, for which performance, in the active duties of public life, there is more glory to be achieved, and a brighter crown will be prepared, than in holy cloisters, or canting whining sophistry of cold nuns, or false dissembling priests? Heed them not, then, I charge you, my Augustina, nor sell thy youthful beauties for hypocrisy like this; heaven hath made thee for more goodly purposes. Thou art young and beautiful, and what is more praise-worthy than either youth or beauty, thou art virtuous, and thy young bosom knows no guileful passions! Why then should Augustina shun that world she was born to adorn? Believe me, thou wouldst wrong thyself, and the mighty conqueror who adores thee still, shouldst thou once consent to become the voluntary slave of such a sacrifice."

"But, Antoinette, I have promised it to my mother, and Benvolio!" now uttered, in breathless accents, the affrighted maid.

"Then thou hast promised what thou canst never perform!" responded her companion ; 66 or, if performing, thou art condemned, through ages of eternity, to suffer for thy rash vows. Hear me, Augustina, my beloved, in the lonely hour of midnight's fearful gloom, I rise, as from the precincts of the mouldering tomb, to

visit thee, and to counsel thee against thy foes. My murdered Ferdinand is buried beneath the battlements of these walls: he was a vassal of thy great father's, and I was high in confidence with thy noble mother, then but a young maid, when Ferdinand first whispered his tale of love to me.

Thy mother, as with thee, would oft beguile my ear of men's treachery towards our helpless sex, and fain would have had me enter the walls of the holy sanctuary, (for such they call it) to shun the embraces of Ferdinand; but I disdained the vile hypocrisy they practised to deceive me, and I married Ferdinand, in spite of all their arts. Thy mother, Augustina, never forgave me for disobeying her high authority, and I fled with my husband to avoid her anger. Remote, far in the wilds of Bohemian plains, I passed a life of peaceful bliss, in the arms of him who adored me, till the ruthless war broke out, and drove me frantic. Bound in the service of the Emperor Josephus, my husband left me, to sojourn in foreign climes,— to wield his sword in the service of his sovereign and his country. Alas! my sweetest lady, thou knowest then my woes began: Ferdinand unwillingly fought against your noble father, the great Albino! but he was taken prisoner, and brought hither. In vain I sought to obtain an interview with my wretched husband, but that was peremptorily denied ; and, ah, I grieve to say, it was thy haughty and vindictive mother that refused this request to a wretched wife. I saw not Ferdinand, nor was granted permission to enter these walls, till told that he had fallen in battle, under the allied forces of your noble father. At your intercession, thou lovely kind-hearted maid, thy mother

granted me her protection, and I came here a disconsolate widow, to attend, as a menial servant, in her household concerns! at the thought, I spurned! but my humble fortunes tempted me to accept of it."

"And blest was the hour that you did so for my sake, my dearest Antoinette," cried the daughter of Albino ; "for, till you came, I had no companionno friend to whom I could unburden my sorrows, or impart my secret griefs; and you are the only one to whom my mother will intrust me."

"And yet, I have had such fearful dreams-such dreadful foreboding dreams about my Ferdinand, that 1 would fain suspect he was hardly used."

"And why thinkest thou so, my Antoinette?" uttered Augustina, in a tremulous and faultering accent. "Thy late gallant husband, as I have heard, perished in the wars—at least, I have heard my mother say so. And hath not my great father and my brother perished also? In the battle's heat have they not both fallen ?"

"True, it hath been said so," uttered the now weeping Antoinette. "Thy father and thy brother died in valiant glory; but a different tale has reached my ear of my lost Ferdinand, in which, thy mother and the priest, Benvolio, has had some share. But let this matter pass. I will not grieve thy young heart with such appalling terrors. I have heard such tales, that in this gothic castle have been performed, as would blanch thy roseate cheek with fear, were I to reveal them.-Didst thou hear last night where they bestowed the page of St. Julian? a goodly warrior, they say, a most gallant soldier !"

"No," softly replied Augustina ; " but I know that