"I know not, nor would I it I did," replied | the man, with a taunting laugh. "What is it to thee?" Man, didst thou ever love?" "I did! but like a dog was I spurned, because I was poor; and I vowed then that I would love nothing more, save-the sight of frenzied blood!" "There there, go; thou art a fit servant for thy master." "I go, Signor; but we meet to-morrow. Ho, ho! there will be rare sport!" "Villain!" thundered Oresfell, and springing on the ruffian, he struck him a heavy blow on the temple, which stunned him, and seizing the lamp rushed out of the room, taking care to lock the door after him. Descending a flight of steps, he proceeded along a narrow-vaulted corridor, and striking into a small passage, rapidly descended a shallow flight of spiral steps: these led to an iron wicket, which, after a little trouble, yielded, and he entered a large square room. No outlet from this could he at first discern, but fancying there must exist one somewhere, he narrowly scrutinized the walls, and in a deep recess discovered a small iron knob, upon pressing which a secret panel slid back, and a concealed flight of steps, hewn out of the solid wall, was revealed. These he rapidly descended, and passing through a low vault, found himself in such a labyrinth of turnings as completely paralysed him. He paused: by one false step he might precipitate himself into ruin-by the other he might discover the cell of Lascine, and liberating her, flee from a place fraught with such danger to their mutual happiness. Longer time, however, was not given for reflection. On looking behind him, he fancied he saw a dark figure glide behind one of the heavy abutments, to escape notice. Commending him self, therefore, to the protection of Providence, he hurried on, and taking the first turning, continued for some time traversing innumerable passages, without finding her he so diligently sought. A dreadful apprehension of Ivonalt's vengeance upon Lascine if he had discovered his escape, preyed upon the mind of Oresfeil; and to add to his horror, a sudden gust of wind extinguished his lamp, with the last faint glimmers of which he fancied he beheld the mysterious figure watching his motions! Still he groped his way, now passing along dark humid passages-then ascending and descending long flights of stairs, and again traversing innumerable vaults, until his progress was arrested by a deep-drawn sigh. Turning to the place from whence it came, he encountered a massive door, on unfastening the bolts of which, a piercing shriek from the inmate caused the blood to rush with overwhelming force to Oresfell's heart. He had reached the dungeon where Lascine was confined! Quick as lightning Oresfell rushed in, and locked in each other's embrace, they forgot for awhile the danger they were in, in wasting the moments in which they ought to have effected their escape. It would be superfluous to detain the reader, to give a lengthened account of the abduction of Lascine; suffice it to say, that one evening as she walked upon the terrace, ruminating on the different life she was about to enter into, a man closely wrapped in a cloak sprang upon her, and enveloping her in its ample folds, brought her to this place, where, finding his protestations of love scorned, Ivonalt ordered her to be shut in the dungeon, and swore she should be his ere another sun had set. 66 Nay, Henri, he even more than that said; unless I consented to be his bride, thy life should be sacrificed to his revenge!" "And thy answer, Lascine?" "Oh! Henri, Henri, what could it be?" exclaimed the poor girl, bursting into tears. 66 Speak! speak, Lascine, I conjure thee! Thou didst not consent ?" "Henri, Henri! dost thou doubt my too ofttried affection?" "No! by Heaven, no!" ejaculated her lover: "but he did not by threats wring from thee thy consent?" "Oh no, no," replied she; "but-but—” "What? what?" emphatically asked Oresfell. "To see thee die! Oh, Henri, it was a dreadful trial!" "Heaven bless thee, my Lascine; fear not for me; sooner would I suffer a thousand deaths than thou shouldst become his bride!" and he strained her to his bosom with impassioned ardour. "Die! then die!" thundered a furious voice, and the dagger of Ivonalt gleamed in the air; but the frantic Lascine interposed, shrieking in the wild accents of despair-" Spare him!-for the love of heaven, spare him!" "Swear thou wilt be mine!" shouted the infuriated Ivonalt, "and he lives-refuse, and he dies!" "As you love me, Lascine," exclaimed Oresfell, with a last sad look at his mistress, "I charge you to resist him to the death!" "Thine answer, Lascine:" and the bloodthirsty weapon gleamed fearfully in the flickering ray of the lamp. "Dost thou consent?" "Never! never!" exclaimed the agonized girl, and she sobbed convulsively. "Die, then, dog! in thine obstinacy!" thundered Ivonalt, as his dagger drank the heartsblood of the unfortunate Oresfell; "thus have I revenge!" and withdrawing the reddened steel a gory corpse fell at his feet! "And you, proud fair!" continued he, looking at Lascine with an expression of countenance so horribly malignant, that her blood froze in her veins-"swear thou wilt be mine, or I will banquet on thy smiles, and then serve thee as I have thy lover!" "Never! murderer! never!" exclaimed she, the tears rushing from her eyes as she raised them imploringly towards heaven, and then fixed them on the bloody corpse of her lover. "Never!" she repeated, and the next moment the crimson lifeblood stained her snowy bosom! Giving one pitying glance at Ivonalt, she murmured faintly, "Henri!" and sank a corpse by the side of her lover! But now a dreadful horror took possession of Ivonalt's soul: he would have given worlds to have recalled the actions of the last few moments. The eyes of his victims glared on him with a dreadful gaze, and he rushed from the place-a raving madman! He flew along the dark passages, but nothing could keep that last look of his victims from his eyes! They seemed to goad him on, and he reached the summit of the tower. There there they were, ever before him, driving him to destruction! He retreated-they followedthey approached! He felt their warm life-blood upon his cheek! He shrieked-he stepped backthat step was his last! Down-downward he fell! At the foot of that awful precipice, there lay a mutilated mass of mortality! He and they had drunk to the dregs of the cup of Revenge! THE WANDERER'S THOUGHTS ON HIS RETURN HOME. Home of my early days Ye that so fondly loved, and nurtured me; "The winter and the spring had fled, the summer nigh was gone, And in a cloudless evening sky, the sun with splendour shone; Oh! in my heart, what cherished thouhts ye raise We laid her on a couch beside a gay and smiling Of joyous infancy! 'Tis sweet, yet sadly sweet, To think of bygone time, Home's blessed hearth, And soft fond smiles, of loved ones, we shall meet No more on earth. And bitter tears bedew'd the sod where her lov'd form was laid; We planted round the spot, amid the grass so green The violet blue, and primrose pale, and snowdrop and bright, virgin white. "And many, many years have pass'd, and all my friends are gone; I saw them fall like leaves around, till I was left alone; And day by day I seek this spot, and long to be at rest, With her I lov'd the first, the last, the dearest, and the best!" W. B. THE UNICORN. From the German of the Author of "Der Frieschutz." BY MISS F. JOHNSTON. Far in the distant wilds of Arabia dwelt a prince of the name of Nadir. He was beautiful as the early morning, and brave as the young lion when be springs from his nocturnal lair. Vast and immeasurable were the treasures left him by his father: his horses and camels covered distant plains; gold and pearls adorned his vesture, and sparkled upon his board. The most lovely and fragrant flowers of the east bloomed but to please his eye, and minister to his pleasure. His wife, elected by his father, was the daughter of a powerful Arab chief. Zulima was beautiful, but she was proud and imperious; she knew not how to love, and desired but splendour and to command. Nadir looked upon her with respect, but he could not love her. Amongst the flowers of his harem bloomed a young and beauteous slave, whom his father had made captive in her early infancy, from Hali, his ancient and deadly enemy. The cheek of Sadi (thus was she named) rivalled the blushing dawn, and her large soft black eyes those of the wild gazelle; her mouth was like the bursting pomegranate, her skin fairer than Parian marble, and her hair blacker than the ebon wood. Nadir loved the beautiful slave with the deep devotion of a young and ardent heart, but with the tenderness and purity of a brother. IIe viewed her with the passionate delight and admiration with which the gardener regards the loveliest flower of his hot-house, but which he would not venture even to touch. The young and gentle Sadi returned the love of the noble youth with the fervour and innocence of childhood. She saw not in him her ruler and her master, but the lover and the friend, who studied her every wish, and lived but for her happiness. Her love was the spontaneous offering of her feelings-not a sacrifice to her duty. Thus had they lived for many months in the sweet bond of confidence and love. Nadir was ever beside the maiden when not engaged with the duties of his high station, or following the chase amongst his native mountains: and firmly relying on her love and rectitude, he permitted to her a liberty denied to the other inmates of his harem. One morning on entering the apartments of Sadi, the young prince found her bathed in tears. An Arab stranger had once bestowed upon her a dove of surpassing beauty and gentleness. The plumage was of a dazzling whiteness, and a rosycoloured ruff of feathers encircled its neck. None could discern whether the lovely colour was natural or the effect of art. The dove answered to the call of its beautiful mistress, sat upon her hand, fondled her with its wings, pecked from her coral lips, nestled cooing in her bosom, or fed from beneath the veil which, like a silvery cloud, covered the most rare and costly fruits. But the beautiful and faithful bird had suddenly disappeared, and nothing could comfort the weeping maiden for its loss. dove." The fond maiden heard him with grief and terror. She trembled lest some accident should be fal him from the ferocity and strength of the wild animal; but she dared not whisper to that bold one her anxious fears. Armed by the hands of love, Nadir hastened to give command that all the aged men, women, and children of the tribe should assemble and follow in a slow train to the borders of the desert, while himself and the young and vigorous men, mounted on the fleetest horses, should hasten on before. Scarcely had the hunting train reached the point of rendezvous when they descried in the distance a white and shining object, moving rapidly among the trees. It was the unicorn, which had sprung from a low thicket of underwood, and was now approaching them. It drew nearer, neighed, snuffed up the air, and regarded the huntsmen boldly, with a bright and sparkling eye. They siezed their bows, but ere an arrow had left the string, the startled animal had fled with the rapidity of light, and, notwithstanding the most eager pursuit, vanished from their sight. The slender majestic form, the brilliant whiteness of the skin, the glossy black of the long wildly flowing mane, and the lofty brow, from which rose the single twisted horn, united to form so attractive an object to the Prince and his followers, that they determined, at all hazards, to capture the wild and marvellous horse. But this was not so easily accomplished. For days they compassed with nets and cords the mountain into which it had taken refuge, and with unwearying industry sought its den. Ofttimes they came upon its track, and once upon itself, but every arrow and javelin passed it by; and when they thought they had driven it into the nets, it sprung forth and away as lightly as a roe, and fled with a strength and rapidity which distanced the fleetest horses. Fatigued and angry with himself at the frustration of his efforts, Nadir turned at length his steps homewards from the desert. It was evening, and already he saw in the distance his tents, and rejoiced in anticipation of the welcome which awaited him from his Sadi. He spurred his horse, and had nearly gained the camp, when, beneath a fragrant tamarisk which overshadowed the road, he beheld the maiden clasped in the arms of a young and handsome stranger, from whom she appeared about to depart. Maddened by jealousy and rage, he sprung from his horse, and throwing himself upon the guilty pair, with one blow of his dagger pierced the youth to the heart, who fell without a sound or sigh into the arms of the terrified Sadi. Heedless of her cries and tears, he commanded her to be bound in fetters, and departed, gloomy and melancholy, to his tent. Unable to find rest or sleep, he passed the night solitary and alone. To his sick fancy the stars in the clear fir He mament were dull and mourning, and danced not Nadir remained gloomily silent, and his wife, as heretofore in glad brilliancy; the moon had turning towards the captive, said "Truly do I shrouded herself with a thick veil, and the dew-believe, slave, that the slain one was dear to thee, drops on the leaves seemed to him tears. and that thou wast equally so to him. I had long cursed Sadi and his fate. "I loved her more than suspected thee and thy faithful dove, and at length myself," said he; "from love I respected her pu- thy messenger was permitted to fall into my rity, and yet she could thus deceive. She ever hands." Zulima here drew from beneath her seemed so good, so innocent, so tender! and a drapery the carrier-bird, strangled by her cruel stranger could in a few days supplant in her un- hands, and removing the rosy ruff of feathers, exgrateful, unfaithful heart, the master and the hibited to Nadir a small silken bag concealed friend." beneath it. Sadi trembled as, with rage sparkling in his eyes, the Prince loosened the cord and drew forth a folded palm leaf, on which was inscribed the following words: "I long, inexpressibly, once more to embrace thee, dearest, and will be in the neighbourhood when Nadir departs. Though our rulers be enemies, yet will my heart ever beat with love for thee, my Sadi, my beloved." The sun now rose with resplendent majesty from behind the mountains, and Zulima, his wife, entered his tent. Long had she viewed with jealousy the pre-eminence of the favoured slave, and a bitter hatred rankled in her heart against her. She had heard of her disgrace, and now hoped to satiate her long-vowed vengeance. "Thou hast fatigued thyself in vain, my lord and husband," she said, addressing herself with feigned tenderness to the Prince, who looked surprised at her unexpected visit. "The wild unicorn hath escaped thy lance, and thou hast discovered on thy return home, what, in sooth, must have surprised thee.” "Leave me, Zulima," replied Nadir, with emotion. "I may merit thy reproaches, but I will not endure thy mockery.' am I come. "Far be it from me to mock thee, my lord," she replied; "to comfort and to mourn with thee, If I can no longer hope for thy love, I may at least prove I am thy friend; and that such I have ever been, thou shalt judge, if thou wilt hearken to the counsel I am about to proffer." "So, speak then, Zulima," said the Prince. Malicious pleasure gleamed from the dark eyes of the Arab wife, as she raised them with an appearance of resignation towards heaven, saying, "Thou hast not, as I at least believe, my lord, any sufficient reason of anger against Sadi, or cause of complaint against her. True, the matter is some. what suspicious; and the slave hath long been by me suspected. True, thou didst find her in the arms of another, who hath been observed for some time loitering in the neighbourhood of our camp. Nevertheless, thine eyes may have deceived thee; or it may be that for this intercourse-this intimacy-there is some excuse." What Zulima desired and expected, came to pass. Nadir, with increased anger, commanded that the offender against his love should be brought before him. Laden with heavy fetters, her cheeks faded, and her eyes swollen with weeping, Sadi appeared. Nadir's angry and Zulima's triumphant looks extinguished every spark of hope in the bosom of the young slave. Nadir trembled and was disquieted as he looked upon her; but his anger rekindled when Sadi exclaimed, with tears, “I must hate, and at the same time love thee, Nadir, for thou hast slain the only being beside thyself who was ever dear to me." "Wretch!" replied the Prince, gnashing his teeth. "Be tranquil, my husband," interposed Zulima; "wrath must not interfere with the justice and vengeance of Allah-an unprejudiced judge. Permit me to speak with Sadi." "Was this meant for thee, shameless one?" questioned Nadir, turning a fiery glance upon the | captive. "It was," replied Sadi, "and yet am I innocent. He whom thou hast so barbarously slain was my only brother. Our mother, who was a slave of Hali's, hath been long dead. My brother ever tenderly loved me, but, being in the tribe of thy deadly enemy, we could not meet but in secret. le it was who sent me the dove by the Arab stranger; and it was for a time the faithful messenger of tender, sisterly love." "Well explained, slave," said Zulima scornfully. "lle was thy brother, and is dead. Thy mother is also dead: only the dead could witness for thee." "I am innocent," sobbed Sadi, unheeding Zulima, and turning towards Nadir-" Only the continuation of thy father's enmity between thee and Hali's son, caused me to conceal the visits of my brother-the bravest and most faithful of Hali's servants. To him I cleaved with a sister's heart; but thee only have I loved-for thee only have I bloomed; and when thou uprootest me from thy garden, I must wither and die." "Only the dead can witness for her," repeated the vindictive Zulima; "but fond, tender sister as thou art, so confident of thy innocence, there is yet a medium whereby thou mayest prove it to us, and thereby restore, it may be, to thee, my Nadir,' she continued, turning towards the Prince," thy lost peace." "And what is that?" questioned her husband, thoughtfully. "By the tribe over which my father ruled," rejoined Zulima, with hypocritical solemnity," it was believed that the unicorn, which mocks at the power and skill of the bravest men, will readily permit itself to be fettered by a virgin with a golden chain." "I also have heard this in my childhood," said Sadi, mournfully; "what is life to me, deprived of Nadir's love? Gladly will I submit to the ordeal, and confide in the justice of heaven." "Then, be it so," said the Prince; "let a golden chain be prepared, and cause her to be brought forth to-morrow on the mountain of the unicorn. At early dawn we will renew the hunt." Exulting in her wicked artifice, for Zulima believed not the tradition, and only hoped to procure the death of her rival, giving to the words of her husband a horrible meaning, unthought of by himself, she commanded the captive to be removed, and hastened to fulfil the order he had given. Amongst the treasures of the Prince was a massive chain of gold, which the haughty and insolent Hali had caused to be forged as a fetter for his enemy, but which, after a fierce encounter, had fallen, with other booty, into the hands of Nadir. Zulima commanded the iron shackles of Sadi to be changed for this costly chain, and the unfortunate slave to be confined with it to a high projecting cliff. In this painful situation, scarcely clothed, and exposed to the scorching rays of the sun, the captive was left to languish through the day. Towards evening the Prince appeared with his huntingtrain, driving the unicorn before them. The mountain-horse was more wild and ungovernable than ever, and fled with the rapidity of lightning. It bad baffled the united skill and courage of the huntsmen, and had wounded several. With glaring eyes, and dilated nostrils, it now made towards the rock upon which Nadir with horror perceived the helpless fettered Sadi. Pity and anguish siezed his heart, and he would now gladly have even pardoned her crime to have placed her once more in safety. Putting spurs to his horse, with frantic desperation he endeavoured to intercept the furious animal. But ere his fleet Arab could reach the spot, the unicorn, with one wild bound, had climbed the pinnacle, and gained the rock. It approached the almost fainting captive, and with a powerful thrust of its fearful horn severed the chain which bound her to the rock, and quietly and submissively crouched down beside her, as though seeking from her deliverance and protection. Sadi threw the golden chain around its glossy, slender neck, and led it, now tame and gentle, to the Prince, saying, with tearful tenderness-"Heaven hath delivered me, and the wild son of the desert attesteth my innocence. Wilt thou longer doubt the truth of thy Sadi?" "OH, PLUCK ME THE MISTLETOE'S CRYSTALLINE WREATH!" A SONG FOR CHRISTMAS. Oh, pluck me the mistletoe's crystalline wreath, With the rosemary sweet, and the snow cover'd beath Come, a chaplet entwine for my brow. I'll wear it, and lead thee where faces are glad, Where friends are assembled with glee; Where the careworn and weary no longer feel sad, In that circle so blithesome and free. Then pluck me the mistletoe's crystalline wreath, And the holly-tree's corally bough; With the rosemary sweet, and the snow cover'd heath Come, a chaplet entwine for my brow. Cold winter has gladness to warm through its chill, Go, wander where summer's scents waft thro' the air, With the rosemary sweet, and the snow cover'd heath Come, a chaplet entwine for my brow. Oh, the holly and mistletoe-winter's own prize, "Tis the wreath of all wreaths when old Christmas draws near, With his boisterous laughter and fun; Then pluck me-oh, pluck me the crystalline wreath, Come, a chaplet entwine for my brow. A. A. L. SWEET SONG OF YORE. Nadir sprung from his horse, and clasping the SING WITH US, SING WITH US, THE maiden to his breast, exclaimed, "Thou art mine, and nothing shall henceforth part us.' Raising her upon the horse before him, and quietly followed by the captured unicorn, he returned in triumph to the camp. Zulima was divorced, and the beautiful Sadi became the wife of the Arab Prince, who caused a splendid monument to be erected on the spot where he had slain her brother, beneath the fragrant tamarisk. The unicorn lived for many years, and was the constant attendant and protector of the gentle Princess; and when at length it died, Nadir caused the horn to be manufactured into drinking-cups, upon which was inscribed the name of Sadi, in letters of gold. To each of the daughters of the princely race was given one of these, for they were said to possess the power of indicating the presence of poisons, and were a test of purity. BY JAMES STONEHOUSE. store, That strew'd were its pathways all over with flowers. We saw not the briars entangling the way, Impeding our journey in trav'lling along; But fancied that round us all life would be gay, And fill'd with such music as that little song. But as onward we trod, oh! rough grew the road, The flowers decay'd, the thorns were left bare; The burthen youth felt not, age thought was a load, And the heart found no dreamings of fancy were there. We paused to look back, but the solitude chill'd, When suddenly came o'er the heart the old strain; It brought back the past, and thro' memory thrill'd, Awak'ning remembrance of childhood again. Liverpool. |