48 THE RIVALS.. 



cited by a young woman, who seemed as if amusing herself among 

 the graves, principally by pulling and strewing on a particular spot 

 small quantities of wild flowers and grasa. She appeared perfectly 

 unconscious that any stranger was present. I got two or three glances 

 of her features, and felt persuaded, from the unmeaning vacancy of 

 her looks, as well as from the wild incoherent ejaculations she now 

 and then uttered, that she was labouring under the heaviest of all cala- 

 mities a bereavement of reason. In her features there were visible 

 the remains of much former beauty, and from her manner, foolish as 

 it was, it was evident that she had moved in rather a respectable 

 sphere of life. It struck my mind most forcibly that the face of this 

 unfortunate young woman had been formerly familiar to rne, but 

 still I could not identify her with any particular individual of my early 

 acquaintance*. Without uttering a word to the female stranger, I 

 passed on until I met with an old man, one whom I had no recollec- 

 tion of having formerly seen when residing in the neighbourhood 

 I enquired of him whether he knew any thing of the young woman 

 in yonder church-yard, pointing to the Golgotha I had just passed. 

 The old man answered, " O yes ! Poor creature ! " he continued, 

 " she was lately deprived of her reason by a mournful circumstance. 

 She was" 



" To whom does she belong?" enquired I> interrupting my in- 

 formant in the midst of his narrative. 



" To a neighbouring farmer, Sir," was the answer. 



' And pray what is the unfortunate's name ?" I continued, feeling 

 my curiosity to know the history of this young woman by this time 

 wound up to the highest pitch. 



"It is Matilda Gordon, Sir," answered my informant. 



The words fell on my ears with a power I cannot describe I felt 

 as if a thunder-bolt had alighted on me ; and, utteringVwild sort of 

 exclamation, I fell back on a bank beside which I was standing 1 , and 

 for a few moments was unconscious of my existence. On partially re- 

 covering myself I arose and proceeded to my .father's residence feel- 

 ing my joy at meeting with all my relations in perfectly good health 

 strangely commingled with sorrow at what 1 had a few minutes previ- 

 ously seen and heard. In answer to the interrogatories I could not, 

 though so long absent from them, help putting to my friends in relation 

 to the recent history of Matilda, they informed me that the awful visi- 

 tation which had bereft her of reason occurred about six weeks sub- 

 sequent to the date of their last letter to me; That she had been 

 married to my old acquaintance and class-fellow, Joseph Bennett ; 

 that some hours after the nuptial ceremony had been performed, and 

 while the sound of charming music was delighting every ear, and all 

 present at the marriage were pledging many a glass to the future 

 happiness of the united pair, a person, wrapped in a cloak which 

 covered the whole of his person excepting his face, and riding on a 

 steed, knocked at the door of the house in which the solemn ritual 

 had so recently been performed, and desired to speak for a moment 

 with the bridegroom. A servant in waiting delivered the message, 

 the bridegroom went to the door, when the stranger on horseback, 

 without uttering a single word, plunged a dagger into his bosom, 



