LIONEL LACKLAND. 



i&i 



elide of a lantern, the light flashed full upon her face — it was pale, 

 even as the corpse in the charnel house — and yet how beautiful. — 

 I have not yet forgotten that scene, no not its minutest parts, even 

 her touching appeal still vibrates on my memory — " Oh, forgive 

 me, thou avenging God, I would save him — save all j murder ! 

 no, no, I cannot, will not, believe it. Oh, my poor father ! grief 

 walks before death, but death comes not to me, and 1 have grieved 

 for years — to me how insupportable is life, how enviable death j 

 yes, how would I array myself in bridal dress, and deck my hair 

 with the fresh flowers of the green world, and give up all of life for 

 the dark, silent, noisome grave ; exchange the voice and look of 

 love for the trail of the slimy worm — death once was horrible — 

 but I would have done with life — hark ! he comes. Save me, oh 

 God." " Woman !" said a stern voice, yet did I not perceive the 

 man enter the cavern, so intensely were my thoughts fixed on the 

 female 5 I resolved to rush forwards and save her, my affections 

 were roused — " Woman ! what voice did I hear, no listeners, have 

 you ?" " No, no," replied she, " listeners have I none, but the 



spirits of the dead, and the presence of one " " Peace, peace, 



I heed not the dead j girl, 1 have lived beyond fear — beyond hope " 

 "And beyond love," said the soft timid voice of the female. 

 " Well, well, s^kl, thou sayest I must repent, and love is the sister 

 of repentance." " But thy repentance may be remorse, thy hope 

 despair." "Silence ! some one approaches : it cannot be him yet> 

 did you give the note ?" " Yes." ** He took it ?" " Yes." " Tis 

 well." Another man whom from his height I suspected to be the 

 pystrior, entered the cavern. " Both here," said he, " 'tis near the 

 hour; the boat rides safely under the crag, she cannot beat away > 

 the tide flows at one." I saw him take the lantern, and instantly 

 the light flashed across his fierce, attenuated, pallid face — it was 

 the pystrior. The men spoke together for some time, apart from, 

 the woman, but so low that I could hear nothing distinctly. The 

 voice of some one in the distance startled them ; they withdrew 

 behind the cavern, leaving the woman alone ; the sound of ad- 

 vancing steps became more audible, in a few minutes Stratton 

 entered the cavern. I knew him by the rough harsh tones of his 

 voice J he sprung forward as if half afraid of his adventure, and, 

 with a terrible oath, uttered the name of Allein, ere he perceived 

 the poor girl standing before him. " Who calls on me ?" replied 

 the deep, low, yet musical voice of poor Allein, " Who calls on me? 

 that voice 3 I should know it — know it — when the hoarseness of its 

 tones have sounded in my ear like a death knell, through many a 

 long year — it comes again — who art thou ?" " Oh, curse upon it, 

 Allein, no trifling, you know who I am ; by your own appointment 

 I came here -, I have not forgotten you — come, Allein, resign the 

 paper, and ask what you like ; forget the past — come, give me 

 your fair little hand, and I'll rtad a fortune for thee as bright as the 

 nioon-beam." " ijtand back, man," said she, as he advanced towards 

 her, " I am no longer familiar with thee — with the past." "Allein!" 

 " Peace, that name died with my innocence 3 ruin — the ruin of my 



