AUG. 24 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
541 
litoatg IStoUanj, 
TO HERMIONE. 
What shall I liken unto thee 1 
A lily bright. 
Whose virgin purity and grace 
Fulfils the soul, as doth thy face, 
With all delight. 
What shall I liken unto thee ? 
A blushing rose. 
Which redolent of fragrance rare, 
Half opened to the summer air, 
All sweetness grows. 
What shall I liken unto thee ? 
Some glorious star. 
Which, hung aloft at eventide, 
Sheds its mild radiance every side. 
Both near and far. 
No I such comparison is vain, 
For these all three, 
Lily, and star, and rose so fair. 
In radiance, grace, and sweetness rare 
Must yield to thee. 
[Macmillan's Magazine. 
EUPHROSYNE: 
AN OLD TALE OF THE NEW WORLD. 
CHAPTER II. 
(Concluded from page 635,) 
A crowd had by tbts time gathered on the bal¬ 
cony, all eager to watch the coruscations of the 
aurora; and there were many who saw In them a 
shadowing forth of hosts gathered In battle—por¬ 
tentous of Impending woe to the loyal garrison of 
Quebec. But no such superstitious fears para¬ 
lyzed the courage of its brave defenders; and 
stanchest among them, and of firmest resolve to 
maintain the rocky stronghold against all odds, 
was the governor himself, the Comte de Fronte- 
nac, a gallant old noble, bred In the warlike 
school of Louis Xlv,, and a true believer In the 
great Henry of Navarre. 
M. de Frontenao possessed the entire confidence 
of his sovereign, and It was his endeavor to deserve 
it, by wise administration and judicious policy. 
But, though Just, geuerous and brave, the comte’s 
Imperious temper often balked his good purpose; 
towards those, especially, who in any way thwart¬ 
ed bia views, he displayed his strong feelings, be¬ 
coming frequently so Irascible that ale most fa¬ 
miliar friends dreaded to approach him. 
In these dark and stormy moods, Madame de 
Lavasseur was the only one wno could exorcise 
the evil spirit that possessed him. She was never 
moved even by his wildest tempests of passion, 
and if manifested In her presence, they seldom 
failed to subside Into calmucas when she tried 
her feminine magic. Ho delighted to have her 
near him: “She seemed,” he said, “ to surround 
him with an atmosphere of joy and peace;" and 
the dutiful and tender affection she rendered him 
In return for his fond indulgence, might have 
been that of a loving daughter. Louis 8t. Ours 
shared with Euphrosyne the favor of the stately 
comte—for, like most persons who are fond of 
power, he loved to have his favorites, though they 
were not always so well choseD as In the present 
Instance. The young man being attached to the 
personal suite of the governor, occupied apart¬ 
ments In the oastle, and was thus thrown Into 
intimate association with Euphrosyne in tne 
dally and hourly courtesies of domestic life—a 
dangerous position for the enamored Louis, es¬ 
pecially as M. de Frontenao seemed In nowise dis¬ 
pleased at the Intimacy which was rapidly knit¬ 
ting the young people more closely together. 
It was past midnight when SL Ours said adieu 
to Euphroayne, and left the castle on a private 
mission to the Intendanl; and the yel¬ 
low dawn was just tinging the horizon, 
when again he found himself alone tn 
his chamber. Wearied, yet too much 
excited to feel the want ol sleep, he 
opened a small cabinet which stood In 
Ills apartment, and drew forth his 
writing materials, desirous or Improv¬ 
ing the short time that remained be¬ 
fore the sound of tho morning reveille 
In Inditing a letter to Madame Lavas¬ 
seur—perhaps the last. 
Full of manly teudernesa was this 
tetter, and as full or sad and bitter re¬ 
gret at the fate that forbade him to 
consecrate to her his life. All was 
told—all mystery cleared away from 
bis words and conduct: his whole soul 
was laid open to her gaze, with Its an¬ 
guish, Its deep remorse for the wrong 
he had done in seeking, even Indirect¬ 
ly, to awake her tenderness. 
Tho letter was sealed and addressed; 
and the half-hour that remained be¬ 
fore being summoned to active duty, 
be employed in looking over the con¬ 
tents of the cabinet, which contained 
bis private papers and other arUolea 
of value. Letter alter letter was 
given to the names; but several brief 
notes, bearing the signature of “ Eu¬ 
phrosyne," and containing, it might 
he, some half-dozen lines of acknow¬ 
ledgment tor a book or other trifling 
favor, were gazed upon till the delicate 
characters became dim, and then re¬ 
stored to the cabinet, 
l ncloslug a private drawer, which 
he had almost forgotten, Louis started 
at the sight of a miniature that had 
lain there undisturbed for years, 
though tho rich gold ot its setting 
was undimmed by time, and the gems 
that lncrusted It remained as lustrous 
as ever, it was the picture of his 
w, !d ~' nre ’ «Pon which he had never 
looked since the day of ms fatal mar- 
lage, when It was given to him by 
sr father, with an Involuntary 
shudder of aversion he closed the drawer. 
The dawn was slowly advancing, painting the 
east with hues that cast their splendor on the 
mist which enshrouded the landscape. As the 
sun ascended, the veil lifted and flickered, hang¬ 
ing like a soft cloud over the St. Lawrence, and 
wrapping In aerial robes the snow-capped moun¬ 
tains of St. Charles. St. Ours stood silently 
watching the tissue of vapor, curling ana wreath¬ 
ing Itself into a thousand forms of fantastic 
beauty, till it floated slowly upward, when the 
English fleet, lying off the shore of Beauport, was 
revealed. Every artfeh of canvas was furled, and 
the only sign of hostility presented was the red- 
crosu flag of England, floating from the mast-head 
of the admiral’s vessel. 
The morning passed away; noon arrived, and 
Just, as the bell In the tower of Notre Dame pro¬ 
claimed the hour of twelve, a boat, conveying an 
officer, with a flag of truce, shot from the side of 
the admiral'a ship, and soon touched ;the pier at 
St. Koch's. 
Springing on shore, tho young offier, with a 
courteous salutation to the commander of the de¬ 
tachment waiting to receive him, requested to be 
conducted to the Comte de Frontenac, to whom 
he was the bearer of dispatches from Sir William 
Phipps. The consent of the governor being signi¬ 
fied, he was blindfolded, and led up the steep 
rocky' streets of the lower town, past frowning 
batteries, and through formidable rows of che- 
vaux-de-frlse, to the lofty platform on which 
stood the castle or st. Louis. 
Admitted wlthlD its gates, he was conducted to 
the council-chamber, where M. de Frontenao, 
surrounded by high dlgultaries of the church, 
and officers both civil and military, sat In state. 
An Imposing audience, thought the young man, 
when his eyes were tmhandaged.and he stood,tho 
bearer of a haugbty message, before that silent 
and dignified assembly. 
Tbe stern proud countenance of the Imperious 
governor, one would have thought, was tn Itself 
enough to daunt the courage of any ordinary 
man under such circumstances; but the English 
herald, with a bearing as haughty as that of the 
aristocratic noble ho confronted, advanced to¬ 
wards him, and with a stately obeisance, awaited 
his permission to unfold his errand. Bllghtly re¬ 
turning the stranger’s greeting, the governor 
said In a brief and peremptory manner: 
“Read on, sir, and you shall have our answer." 
The Englishman drew forth his document, and 
read the bold summons of his admiral, demand¬ 
ing, in the name of his sovereign lord, William, 
king of England, the Immediate surrender of the 
fortress and city of Quebec; “ to which demand,” 
added the lmperturable messenger, “your ans¬ 
wer, Comte de Frontenao, is required In an hour 
hence, upon the peril that will ensue. I shall 
await your excellency’s answer till the time spe¬ 
cified has expired," 
By a. simultaneous impulse, the whole assembly 
rose irom their seats, surprised out of their dig¬ 
nity by tbe insolence of tbe message and the au¬ 
dacity of Its bearer. Rage and astonishment 
were depicted on the countenance of M. de Fron- 
tenac. For a minute, excessive anger prevented 
his utterance, but when at last his white lips 
parted to speak, a torrent of scorn and defiance 
flowed from them. Shaking his clenched hand 
with a menacing gesture: 
“ I do not recognise the supremacy of William 
of England,” he said; “ I know him only as the 
Prince of Orange—a usurper, who, to gratify his 
selfish ambition, has outraged the most sacred 
rights ot blood and of religion, striving to per¬ 
suade the nation that he is Its savior, and the de¬ 
fender of Its faith, even while he has violated its 
laws, and overturned the Church of England. 
Those offences the divine Justice will not long 
delay to punish as they merit.” 
Perfectly unmoved by this hurricane of wrath 
stood the messenger of Sir William Phipps, except 
that a haughtier light gleamed in his clear blue 
eye, and a scarcely perceptible curl ot his lip 
showed hla contempt for the accusation alleged 
against his sovereign. He only asked: 
“ This, then, la your excellency’s only reply 7” 
M. de Frontenac deigned no word In return to 
the question, but, with an air of frigid determi¬ 
nation, slightly bent his head In token of assent. 
41 May it. please your excellency, then,” resumed 
the officer, still in the same imperturbable and 
authoratlvc tone, “to cause that this, your ans¬ 
wer to our smmaons, should be rendered in writ¬ 
ing, for the satisfaction of my commander, to 
whom I would not willingly bear a false Interpre¬ 
tation of your message.” 
“ I will answer your master, sir, by the mouth 
of my cannon!” thundered the exasperated gov¬ 
ernor, whose scarcely smothered wrath leaped 
Into a flame at the audacious coolness of the 
herald. “Thus, and thus only will 1 hold parley 
with him, and that, ere long; for It Is time to 
teach him that the Comte de Frontenao, the vice¬ 
gerent of the greatest monarch In the world. Is 
not to be dealt with In this manner even by his 
peers l” 
With a haughty wave of his hand, the angry 
old noble rose and left the council-chamber, at¬ 
tended by bis suite. It was the signal for the 
herald's departure; and again, with bandaged 
eyes, he was conducted through the fortified city 
to the boat which had borne him on his fruitless 
mission thither. 
The hostilities which almost immediately ensued 
on the conclusion of this brief conference, are 
matter of history; and upon them, even did the 
limits of our tale permit, we have no desire to 
dwell. Hour alter hour, the dreadful cannonade 
continued; but’ directed, as was the lire of the 
English colonists, against the bights of tho up¬ 
per town, their balls fell harmless; while the 
numerous guns of the rocky fortress replied with 
a power that told fatally upou the enemy’s flotil¬ 
la. All day the fearful strife went on. But the 
weary day declined at last; twilight, brief and 
bright, came on; and then the welcome night, 
shrouding all things In darkness, and stilling for 
a time the desperate light. 
St. Ours hailed the approach of night with Joy. 
All day he hid been active where peril was rtfest, 
and had escaped unscathed; but he was sick of 
tho noise of battle, and even a brief respite was 
grateful to him. Another evening might not find 
him breathing—loving—oh that earth made radi¬ 
ant by the presence ol Euphroayne; for there lay 
the black hulks or the hostile vessels, waiting 
lor dawn to renew the strife; and among the 
victims marked for death, might not himself be 
numbered 7 
With this thought sprang up an Intense desire 
to see Euphrosyne, if only for a few moments to 
learn how she had borne the trials of the day, 
and to draw comfort, and courage from her smile. 
But he had been left for tbe night In command of 
one of the batteries of the lower town; and to 
forsake his post, even for an instant, was impossi¬ 
ble. So, sadly resigning himself to the hard ne¬ 
cessity, he stood dreamily gazing at the turrets 
ot the castle, as they stood against the evening 
sky, and picturing to himself the beloved Image 
which had never left him even in the perils of 
the fight. He was interrupted by a message from 
M. de Frontenac, who required his Immediate at¬ 
tendance at the castle. He needed no second 
bidding to make him obey the summons, trust¬ 
ing that when he had received the comte’s 
commands, he should be able to steal a short in¬ 
terview with Euphrosyne before quitting the 
castle. 
He was detained but a few minutes by the 
governor, who desired to charge him with a 
HERMIONE. 
secret mission to the commander of a distant re¬ 
doubt ; aDd as Louis passed from his presence, he 
made a slight detour, In order to traverse the 
corridor in which the private apartments of 
Madame de Lavasseur were situated. His heart 
beat high with the hope of meeting her; but the 
place was vacant; though, seeing the door of her 
boudoir stand partly open, he paused opposite to 
it, irresolute, yet fearing to enter unbidden. No 
light gleamed from within, and he ventured 
softly to breathe her name; but there was no 
answer; not a sound broke the deep silence; 
only a faint odor of the flowers she most loved 
stole balmily, like her own sweet presence, upon 
his senses. 
A glass door at the end of the corridor stood 
open, and with a trembling undefined hope he 
passed through It to the balcony, and there he 
found the object of his search. With traces of 
emotion still lingering on her face, she lay upon a 
cushioned seat, the folds of her white garments 
falling gracefully around her, and her attitude 
one of profound repose. The moonbeams tremb¬ 
ling through a fleecy cloud quivered on her face 
their pale soft light Beemlng to surround her 
head with a halo, and thus lending a celestial 
character to her beauty. 
St. Ours stole towards her, shrinking at the 
sound of his own step, yet drawing nearer till her 
low measured breathing fell softly upon his ear. 
It seemed a3 if she had wept herself to sleep, for 
tears were yet glistening on her cheek, round 
which her hair fell In disorder, descending In rich 
folds to the floor. Suddenly her sleep became 
disturbed; she moved, and murmured softly, but 
his ear caught the whispered words, and the 
blood bounded wildly through his veins. Could 
It be7—res, again she spoke; and his own name 
was on her Ups—his father’s name; that which 
he had borne since he became known to her was 
his mother’s. 
He bent again to Usten—a smile was on her 
Ups. She seemed visited with happy dreams; 
and stooping low to catch her Inarticulate mur¬ 
murs, he again heard “ Louis de Mornay,” coup¬ 
led with another name which had been familiar 
to his childhood. He was amazed—how could 
she have come to the knowledge of this name 7 
He wished she would awake, but she seemed 
sinking into a deeper slumber; and he felt that 
he must depart without the interchange of a 
word. 8U11 he remained, as if spell-bound, bend¬ 
ing over her till her breath fanned his cheek, 
when, yielding to a resistless impulse, he sllghtl 
pressed his Ups upon her brow. 
Llghf as was the touch of that Impassioned 
kiss, it awoke her, and she sprang to her feet. Ia 
her terror, she failed to recognize him; she saw 
only a tall figure standing beside her; and wltha 
bound, she rushed from him towards the door 
which opened from the corridor. Her dress was 
caught by some slight obstacle as she was pass¬ 
ing through; and In her eager haste to disengage 
It, she cast a furtive glance at the intruder, when 
she was struck by a certain something m hl 3 an, 
and In the outline of his figure, which arrested 
her flight. 
“Euphrosyne!” whispered the weU-known 
voice. Glowing with joy she turned towards 
him. He advanced. 
“ You are safe, thank God!” she said; but the 
sound of a closing door, and then ot voices ap¬ 
proaching, alarmed her; and snatching her hand 
from his clasp, she darted swiftly away. Louis 
stood for a minute like one entranced; but he had 
no time to Unger; and comforted by having seen 
her, he strove to persuade himself that It waa 
better for her happiness and for ids honor that he 
had been saved the expression of feelings, tnto 
which, had the Interview been prolonged, he 
might have been betrayed. He left the castle, 
and departed swiftly on his mission. 
The brief truce of tbe night was bro¬ 
ken at early dawn by the guns or the 
enemy, who stung by the 111-fortune 
of the preceding day, renewed the 
assault. But though, tor six continu¬ 
ous hours,they pressed the attack with 
vigor, they were at last compelled to 
retreat before the overwhelming pow¬ 
er of their opponents. Many there 
were on the decks ol the little flotilla 
who would haTe preferred dying in 
the struggle; but Sir William Phipps, 
no less brave than he was humane, 
wished to avoid a useless waste of 
life, and assured that all chance of 
victory was at an end, he ordered 
the anchors to be welgued; and 
crippled by the guns of the fortress, 
many of her gallant hearts cold and 
silent, others bleeding on her decks, 
the defeated armament floated slowly 
down the stream. 
Fast and continuous from theh jght 
of the citadel pouring on the retiring 
fleet the fire of Us cannon; scarcely 
a ball sped through the air in vain ; 
and when at last one of them, in its 
flight struok the mast of the admir¬ 
als’s vessel, and sent It headlong, 
with the proud flag of England at Its 
top, into the St. Lawrence, what hu- 
mlUatlon crushed the hearts of its 
defenders!—what joy swelled the tri¬ 
umph of the victors! 
Borne up by its silken folds, the 
flag floated slowly towards the con¬ 
querors—a token or surrender, which 
they halledwith shouts that shook the 
city to its center. On It came, watched 
with breathless Interest by that eager 
multitude, till suddenly, saturated by 
the waves. It disappeared beneath 
them, the end of the splintered flag¬ 
staff floating on the surface, desig¬ 
nating the place where it had sunk. 
The breatuieus hush which succeeded 
Its Immersion, was broken by the clear 
commanding voice of de Frontenac 
Impetuously exclaiming; 
“.Shall the trophytbe lost to us, an 
