316 THE LOVE TOKEN 



he said aloud; but in a whisper, " farewell for ever!" He took her 

 hand it trembled a tear fell upon his own, and she turned hastily to 

 the music-stand again, to hide or stifle her emotion, and with difficulty 

 coirld collect strength enough to speed him on his journey. 



Leslie had consideration enough to leave her at once. He mounted 

 his horse in silence, and rode down the avenue, followed by his servants, 

 and it was not for some time that he recollected that he had not taken 

 leave of his kind host and friend Lord Mauden. 



fe Strange!" said his lordship, as he followed Leslie with his eyes 

 down the lawn. 



Lady Mauden, after a vain attempt at the harpsichord, complained of 

 illness, and retired to her chamber. 



Alas ! what a world is ours ! where half its fancied pleasures are sin. 

 Lady Mauden was most unhappy. The commands of a father, and the 

 prayers of a mother, had prevailed with her to give her hand to Lord 

 Mauden. The only man she had ever loved, besides that father, had 

 just parted from her side. He had told her, he had quitted her for 

 ever. She was glad and yet, " for ever" Lady Mauden was a woman, 

 young and sensitive ; and could she, in her heart of hearts, rejoice never 

 more to see the man upon whom her first and best affections were un- 

 changeably fixed ? Reason is deceitful, duty is blind, and determination 

 is weak. Alas ! that passion should be the only true, clear-sighted, and 

 strong principle of our nature ! 



Not very far from Mauden House, there is a wild and heathery moun- 

 tain, broken here and there by deep and winding hollows, through one 

 of which passes the public road ; and this, as well as the rest, had, since 

 the days of King William's conquest, been noted as a resort of robbers 

 and outlaws. The attacks on coaches, the plunder of individual tra- 

 vellers, and some frightful and most revolting murders committed there, 

 had made it a fearful place to all the country; while the nature of the 

 situation, and of the scenery itself, lent an additional horror and dark 

 interest to ail that rumour could tell. The bleak mountain collected 

 about its head an almost perpetual covering of clouds ; and the screams 

 of a few wild birds, that, from time to time, hovered over the thin patches 

 of cultivation, gave life indeed to the scene ; but it was such life as 

 Virgil or Dante could have given to the bleakness of an infernal plain. 



It was half-past twelve at night when Leslie was riding on this road, 

 followed at a short distance by his favourite Hennecy. The master was 

 silent; the servant now and then broke into a whistle, or stave, of some 

 Irish song, but would instantly cease on recollection of the presence of 

 his master. He evidently longed to speak, and would have given a 

 great deal for the usual condescending communicativeness of " Sir 

 George," to arrest the loneliness of their way ; but Hennecy was not in 

 the slightest degree afraid. Many a night before he would not have 

 passed here in silence, for the universe, nor have trusted himself on this 

 mountain, except perhaps with a strong party of ' ' hearty boys," return- 

 ing from a fair or wake ; but, to-night, Hennecy knew his master's erra n d, 

 and felt that his silence and seriousness was, to-night, most natural. 

 They had just arrived to the summit of a hill, over which the road led, 

 and from thence on the top of another, which also was crossed by the 

 road ; figures were seen relieved against the hazy and half moo n -lit 

 clouds behind. Distant whistlings were heard, and, in a few mom en ts, 

 Leslie could observe, on the far-off hill, as it retired from the road, 



