her to disregard a parent's command, and enter on a clandestine marriage. Long, and bitterly, and passionately, did they converse, and they heeded not the time as it fled, until they were started by a scream, long, wild, and piercing, close beside them. In amazement they rose from their seats, but no person was near; and while they still gazed in terror upon each other, again they heard it louder, nearer than before. Scarce could Edmond reach the entrance to the arbour before it came, the third time, as if from some invisible being who stood between him and Margaret; and such a scream-'twas like nothing earthly-'twas something like the shriek of the drowning one, but more loud, more ghastly, and more protracted. Margaret followed M'Naghten, and grasped his arm in fright. The fall of snow had ceased, and the new-risen moon was just emerging from the gray clouds that were piled in the east, and the sky above the white edge of their dark masses was the clearest azure. They looked along the pathway-the trees stood like so many pillars of white, and cast their long and indistinct shadows in the faint shining of the moon, but they could see nothing; and all around them there were no marks of footsteps, unless the slight traces of their own which were almost filled up by the fresh fallen snow. Margaret pointed to the moon. Edmond," said she, "it is near midnight, my absence may be discovered, and I must return." He walked with her towards the house. She turned off towards the shrubbery, and followed a retired path until she reached a window which M'Naghten knew well as one that opened from a little greenhouse, from which there was a communication with the house. She stood upon its step. She took from her bosom a small parcel. Edmond, we may never meet again, but if it be so, open this when you hear of my death, and not till then, and now farewell." They were folded in each other's arms. They gave a long and a last embrace. She opened the window by means of a key which she carried with her, and gently raising the sash, passed through; then softly letting it down again, she kissed her hand to M'Naghten, and, stealing along the passage, was soon lost to his sight. He stood long gazing on the window through which she had

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gone. A thousand thoughts crossed his brain, and at length he turned away. But long did he wander over the wellknown scenes, and the moon had passed her meridian, and was sloping to the west, before he tore himself from Glenarm, and set out on his dreary walk to Derry.

Unhappy man-the miserable victim of his own uncontroulable passionwith many of the best feelings of our nature implanted in his breast, yet betrayed into actions that seemed to partake but little of the finer sympathies of the soul. It was pride-pride deepseated and intense, that was his error, and his ruin. This was the cloud whose shadows, even in his best days, darkened the sunshine of his soul, and which burst at length in tempest and lightning on his head.

Yet did he not renounce all hopes of uniting himself with her from whom destiny seemed thus determined to separate him. He could not bring himself to believe that the darling object for which he had sacrificed his faith and honor was indeed lost for ever. The thought were madness-it were worse. Wonder not if, in the excitement of phrensied passion, he formed plans which, in his cooler moments, he would never have approved. He admired, even while he mourned, the firmness of his beloved one in keeping her promise to a dying mother, and her decision of character gave him no hope that ever she would break it; nay, he was awed by the dignity of virtue, and dared not to press a request that she would violate the most solemn vow that mortal can give. He formed then the wild scheme of bearing her away by force, and compelling her to bestow her hand upon him. Thus no guilt would be attached to her, and he deemed it would be no hard matter to obtain her forgiveness for forcing her to a marriage he knew full well her heart would sanction, though her conscience might disapprove.

To the accomplishment of this scheme his ardent spirit could see no obstacles, but what might be easily overcome. His knowledge of all the paths and retreats in the demense of Glenarm afforded him a very great facility in the laying of his plans; and he hoped that by watching his opportunity he might, some time or other, surprise Margaret in one of her soli

tary rambles through the wood, and bear her away unseen. The vicinity of the river was also favourable, and a boat might easily pass down the stream under cover of the night without exciting any suspicion; and it was his intention to proceed down Lough Foyle, to the neighbourhood of Greencastle, where a French priest resided in a cottage near the edge of the water; here the marriage ceremony might be performed, and then he might return, and placing Margaret, as his wife, at the feet of Colonel K- implore and obtain a father's blessing and forgiveness, and by a repetition of their vows, according to the ritual of their own church, publicly and openly acknowledge and ratify their union. A bribe procured for him the co-operation of a servant in the house, and there still existed enough of the spirit of feudal times to ensure for him the services of some old retainers of the family of M'Naghten, who knew no law but their chieftain's word, and with whom obedience to his command and fidelity to his interest, was the chief thing, though not the only virtue.

Every thing had been put in train for carrying his design into execution; and he waited with impatience the offering of an opportunity. A cottage which stood on the very skirts of the grounds of Glenarm was tenanted by one of his followers; and here the three men, to whom he confided his designs, took up their temporary abode, while, to avoid exciting suspicion, they were directed to employ themselves in fishing, which also furnished a pretext for the keeping of the boat, which was necessary to his ulterior plans. M'Naghten himself passed most of his time here in the humble disguise of a fisherman, and frequently wandered close to the house without being recognised upon one occasion he passed close to a window at which Margaret was seated; his glance met her's; he thought she recognized him, but he could not be certain-struck, probably, by his figure, she betrayed visible emotion in her looks-but rose almost immediately and left the window. M'Naghten stood gazing, and had almost disclosed his real character. One of the domestics came by Colonel K's orders to know his business; fortunately it was the man who was already in his secret, or his confusion

would inevitably have betrayed him. The man came up to him, and giving him a caution as to his imprudence, returned and told Colonel K- - that it was one of the fishermen at the wood-house who had come to inquire if any fish were wanted; Colonel K's suspicions were excited, but before he could make any further inquiries M'Naghten was out of sight, and thus narrowly escaped detection for the present.

But though he thus avoided immediate discovery, the consequences of his rashness were fatal to his plans. Colonel K- was convinced that the inhabitants of the wood-house were more than mere fishermen. The disturbances which had prevailed in some districts, had been long since effectually quelled, and the regular troops who had been drawn off from Derry into the disturbed parts of the country had returned, while M'Naghten's regiment, which had been appointed to relieve them was now upon mere nominal duty, and was only retained in employment for a little longer, until the continuance of tranquillity would warrant its being disbanded. Colonel K—, however, deemed it right to give information of the suspicious character of his new neighbours, and that very day forwarded a despatch to the governor of Derry, stating that strange men, in the disguise of fishermen, were constantly reconnoitring about Glenarm, and that he had reason to suspect from their movements that their intention was to make an attack upon his mansion; his application was promptly answered by an assurance, that that very night a military detachment would be sent to surprize the pretended fishermen, and discover their real character and object.

The wood-house was situated in a most retired and secluded spot; there was a deep and precipitous dingle, or glen, through which a mountain torrent poured its stream; when it emptied itself in the Foyle it widened out into a deep and broad pool, so as to fill the entire bed of the glen, and it was just at the angle, formed by the brink of the river, and the side of the glen, that the wood-house was built; its old gray walls were covered over with ivy, and were nearly concealed by the stunted oaks and hollies which clothed the bank; a steep and winding path led

down to the water's edge, and another to the summit of the bank. The boat was moored beneath in the pool; M'Naghten generally passed his days here in disguise, as he dreaded to trust his beloved, even to the honest and faithful fellows whom he had commissioned on this service. Their rudeness would alarm her, and he wished, if possible, to be present himself, to soothe her anxieties and dispel her fears. His directions to them were, if they were fortunate enough to get possession of her person in his absence, to convey her to the wood-house, and keep her there in close concealment, treating her with every respect, and immediately to send him intelligence. He knew that he might trust his life to the fidelity of these men, one of whom was a foster-brother of his own, yet still he was fearful, and through the favour of the Colonel of his regiment, who was a near relative of his own, and on the plea of illhealth, he procured leave of absence, and latterly had never left the place of his concealment and disguise.

More than a week had passed over in this way without any opportunity, such as he desired. His impatient soul soon grew weary of the dull monotony of watching from morning to evening, and he began to form more desperate resolutions: his men were all armed, and the plan of an attack upon the house naturally suggested itself; his soul at first shrunk from the possibility of bloodshed, until at length even this grew familiar by contemplation. Bravery he had ever been taught to regard as the chief virtue; and now when he began to think this the only means of accomplishing his object, he was willing to hazard even the loss of life in its accomplishment. But all his schemes were unexpectedly broken off by an event which probably the reader will anticipate.

The information which Colonel K had forwarded to Sir R H, at that time governor of Derry, was so strange, that he did not deem it prudent to let a single night pass over without taking steps to arrest the suspicious characters who had taken up their abode at the wood-house. He sent forward late in the evening a small party of military to Glenarm, under the command of a confidential officer, with directions to act under Colonel K's directions and to secure VOL. I.

the entire party and bring them for ward for examination.

It was a cold and frosty night upon which the military detachment, consisting of an officer and twelve men, set out to invest the wood-house and make prisoners of its inmates. The sky was unclouded, and the stars shone upon its blue with a clear and brilliant lustre ; the northern breeze blew keen and strong, and it moaned heavily through the trees as the little band proceeded by the intricate path that led to the object of their search. With the help of their lantherns and the assistance of a guide, they made their way with difficulty through the tangled mazes of the underwood, and reached the brow of the bank, down the perilous descent of which they were to climb in the dark. Here they halted to observe the nature of the ground-and certainly it presented rather a dangerous appearance; they stood on the edge of a declivity about forty feet in height, at the foot of which was the deep basin, into which one false step might precipitate the unwary adventurer; about half-way down the white chimney of the wood-house appeared, by the dim star light through the brushwood of the bank, and formed a strange contrast with the black hue of the rest of the slope. There was no sign of their being near a human habitation-all was still and quiet as the peacefulness of some mountain_dell, unless when the night-breeze shook the branches of the trees. The guide proceeded to point out the path, and the others cautiously followed down the declivity one by one; one of the foremost missed his footing, and tumb ling over the precipice fell upon the roof of the wood-house; as he fell he cried for help, and confusion and tumult ensued through the hitherto noiseless band. Those inside were startled and rushed out with flambeaus in their hands, and the gleam of the torches fell full upon the soldiers as they pressed on from above. M'Naghten was amazed-he comprehended at once the object of this visit, and saw that no time was to be lost; he dashed his flambeau to the ground-his companions did the same, "To the boat!" he cried-he snatched up his carbine, and with a simultaneous impulse they all rushed to the water's edge. "Stop!" cried the officer, “or I will fire." The only answer was the splash

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of an oar in the water. The sound of a volley echoed through the glen-the soldiers had fired at random, and it was uncertain whether their shots had taken effect. There was again the splash of the oar, as if struggling to get off, and a shot was returned from the water. The whole party rushed madly down the struggling of the oars became more violent, and the shouts of the assailants were loud, but their broken and straggling cheer showed that they were in confusion and dispersed. The boat's little crew redoubled their exertions. M'Naghten felt his honour was at stake: one of his men had, without his directions, returned a shot, and how could he excuse himself, for being of a party that had fired on the king's troops? Just as the boat was pushing off a soldier leaped on board, and shouted to his companions to come on. M'Naghten seized him round the middle and attempted to throw him over board, but he was unable-" Row on-row on!" he cried to his companions. Another musket was discharged from above, and the ball whizzed close to them. M'Naghten had been seated at the helm, but he had let it go, and was engaged in a deadly struggle with his assailant each held the other in a convulsive grasp; the boat pushed off, and the stroke of the oars was now free in the deep water; M'Naghten moved to the edge of the boat, and exerting all his strength disengaged himself from the gripe of the soldier, and let him drop into the water; he fell heavily into the pool-an oar struck him upon the head as he went down, and he sunk to rise no more. M'Naghten resumed the helm -the rudder had turned, and the boat had her head to the bank-he righted her-they strained every nerve at the oar, and she shot out into the channel of the river. The shouts became less distinct, and they could see by the red glare of the flambeaus which the soldiers had lit, the whole party standing disappointed at the water's edge. They pulled the oars with still greater energy, and in a few minutes they were safe even from the fire of the military.

The whole transaction occupied less time than I have taken to describe it. The boat had now gained the centre of the river, and was quietly passing over the surface of the glassy flood, in whose bosom were reflected the thousand

stars that spangled the azure vault of heaven. M'Naghten had now time to reflect upon his narrow and almost miraculous escape from danger and disgrace; apprehensive that means might still be taken to pursue them, he steered for the opposite bank, determined to land immediately, and make the best of his way to some safe retreat. The little waves dashed against the side of the boat as she sped her way forward. The point at which they landed was thickly covered over with bushes; they drew up the boat into the middle of the thick underwood, so as effectually to conceal it, and proceeded rapidly along a narrow pathway which led from the river's side.

M'Naghten had always worn a different and more suitable dress beneath his fisher's garb, and he had only to divest himself of his assumed habiliments, effectually to escape identification. With the rest of the party, however, the circumstances were different, and he could not bear to desert in danger, those whom his own conduct had brought into it; and it was only by the pressing entreaties of the faithful fellows, that he was prevailed on to leave them to shift for themselves : nor would their urgency have prevailed had it not been for their assurance, that independent of all considerations of his personal safety, his remaining with them would but endanger theirs, since he was but a clog upon their exertions. There was a wild and unfrequented district of mountain through which they purposed to make their way home, and where no step but one well practised in traversing the bog and heath could possibly keep up with them. Before morning then they would be far beyond the reach of pursuit, and they agreed to meet their chieftain at M'Naghten on the next evening, where they might in security concert their further plans, since their former ones had been thus unexpectedly broken up. Persuaded then by their intreaties, Edmond put off his fisher's garment, and putting on his head an ermine_cap, which was usually worn by the officers in undress, and which, from its capability of compression and consequent portability was convenient for such expeditions-he saw his hardy and intrepid companions proceed at a kind of jog trot up the mountain, while he hastened back to Derry.