sort of a young man, but very much the air of a gentleman; for I can know a gentleman any day from a scrub, let his clothes be ever so poor. So, ma'am, this gentleman, that was so poor, built himself a sort of a hut, by the side of the mountain that sweeps down towards the castle; and neighbours said as how he didn't live as other folks do, but that he wrote buiks, and printed them. However that might be, people went to see him in his house by the mountain, and he could have no peace, maʼam, in rambling by the springs and valleys, as he liked to do, for they made a sort of cake-house of it, ma'am. one fine day, he set fire to his house by the side of the mountain, and wandered into the woods, and got leave to build himself a small hut there, and never is seen but when he goes to the markettown for provisions; and whether he writes. buiks, or cuts wood now, I can't rightly tell."

So,

Such an account did not fail to excite

the

the curiosity of the countess; and accompanied by sir Herbert, she took the earliest opportunity of invading the solitude of the mysterious woodman. He was just returning homeward with a bundle of wood sufficient for fuel for his fire, and testified some surprise at seeing his hut occupied by two strangers, whose appearance evidently denoted them to be of a superior class of life; but when the parties met, an exclamation of recogni tion, on the part of the countess, was followed by a respectful salutation from the solitary owner of the hut, and the words, "Trevallyn !" "Lady Llanvair !" burst simultaneously from the lips of each. The countess, assuming the privilege of her sex, began an apology for her intrusion, and informed the recluse of the adventure that had brought her, on another day, to his cottage in his absence." We owe you hospitality," she said," although you exercised it unconsciously; and you

"

must

must inform us, in return, how we can serve you."

This was said with a frank amenity, that at once melted away the fastidiousness and reserve with which the poor recluse in general armed himself. He could not mistake the sincerity and sweetness that beamed from the fair Rosamond's eyes."This is unlike the world, lovely countes!" he said; " but your looks are an earnest of a mind that cannot be misunderstood. Few blessed with rank and affluence would stoop to acknowledge an acquaintance sunk in the vale of wretchedness, as I am."

"Ever the same Trevallyn," replied the countess, with energy, "whether caressed and flattered by the great, or courting the muse in solitude and silence! A gentleman, and therefore entitled to respect-a man of talents, and therefore deserving of encouragement."

mond," returned Trevallyn, with enthusiasm," whether dignifying retirement, or gracing the circles of a court, the friend -the woman in ten thousand, before whom misfortune need not blush, if not incurred by guilt!"

66

66

Come, this is idle," replied the countess; "I spoke not to hear my own praises, but to learn what uncommon accident has transformed the elegant, accomplished Trevallyn into a hermit of the woods. Sir Herbert is known to you as well as myself; therefore I need not add that he feels in your concerns an equal interest."

66

Five

My story is singular, I trust," resumed the benevolent Trevallyn;" for, though few men are unacquainted with disappointment, few also have experienced it in the severe extreme that I have. years are scarcely gone by, since lady Llanvair remembers me distinguished by the most eminent STATESMAN of the age. Flushed with youth, gaiety, and the conscious possession of talent, the world seem

ed

ed to open to me a boundless prospect of delight: he died, and with his death closed my prospect of political advancement. To Have been honoured with the confidence of the earl was to be obnoxious to his

successor.

"At that juncture an advantageous offer to travel presented itself; I eagerly embraced it, visited the principal courts of Europe, and, on my return, hastened to avail myself of my extended knowledge of men and manners, by communicating the result of my observations to the public. My work was at first most favourably re ceived; but an unexpected blow levelled all my hopes to the earth. Ridicule overtook my labours; those who had never moved in the circles in which I had been received, nor seen the relies of antiquity which I had carefully investigated, boldly questioned the veracity of my descriptions, and the accuracy of my details. A witty but unfaithful parody completed the ruin of my literary reputation, and the TOURIST

and