turned unopened. He, too, seemed to have become almost a maniac-his dress and figure were disordered, his words rash and violent, and his voice hoarse and broken.

The farmer's arrival, however, acted like a charm; he seemed to have awaked from a dream, and gained over his feelings so sudden and powerful a mastery, that the poor unsuspecting man was confirmed in the opinion I have mentioned, and pitying his distress, engaged to intercede for him with his daughter, Who will not pause to pity him in the fulfilment of such a task?-Whose heart will not bleed for the poor victim whom he solicited? He came back at length, bewildered and displeased at her pertinacity, while she still remained resolute in declining to admit Montgomery in defiance of all importunities.

At length exhausted and despairing of success, the latter absented himself wholly from the cottage, though he long continued to hover about at some distance, under the vain expectation of accidentally crossing her path. The friend at whose house he was a visiter, and to whom he betrayed no desire to move, though his originally intended limits were now more than trebled, could not but observe his forlorn and dispirited state of mind, which, indeed it needed but a glance at his haggard cheek and sunken eye, to ascertain. Too delicate to probe a wound which appeared so deep and irritable, he resorted rather to every kind artifice and design, which might have the effect of reviving and awakening him from the deplorable condition into which his every faculty had fallen. Among the rest, he invited company to his house, and courted the society of all the neighbouring gentry, to whose advances, as a stranger, he had been until now, considered unaccountably distant; and it was in the round of gaiety that ensued, that Montgomery met, for the first time, the former friend of his Mary, who seemed, as it were, the very soul and arbitress of all that was mirthful and happy. Worn and lethargic as he was, he could not help being attracted by such a brilliant display of charms; and his anxious friend was soon delighted to remark, that in her society he appeared to shake off much of the torpor which had so long preyed on him, as the opportunities of

meeting her seemed to multiply with an almost fated accuracy.

Surprising and inconsistent, with that morbid and painful state of feelings I have described, as the next passage of his history would appear, let no man, I would say, presume to decide on the hidden motives, the inner workings of a fellow-creature, however open his external conduct to censure or dislike. For myself, I would fain see the sunny side of each fleeting picture, and I am satisfied, with regard to Montgomery, that during the latter part of his intimacy with Mary, he had been perfectly honorable in his intentions, whatever mysterious fatality seemed to have hung over its issue; that his grief and melancholy, when that intimacy was broken off, were equally unaffected; and that it was not owing to heartless indifference, but to natural fickleness and instability, and to the ardent spirits and warm constitution of his youth, that he soon was seen to be inspired with equal devotion to another, and as fair an object.

As for Bessy, she too had recovered from the shock her friendship had sustained, although the latter feeling remained still undiminished; and we have already noticed the number and power of the fascinations which now newly beset her. In a word, Montgomery was formed to be the bane of two gentle creatures, with respect to whom, whether we look to their personal charms, their intellectual attractions, the innocence in which he found them, or their unalterable attachment to each other; it would be difficult to decide which should be the object of the greater interest and admiration.

Yet, is it not after all, nearly incredible, when we recur to the circumstances of this little tale from the commencement, that in the course of four months from the hour when he parted with Mary, her recollection was now almost effaced, at least from the seat of his deeper emotions, and he found himself day after day engaged in attentions as assiduous to another, as he had so lately practiced with unwearied zeal toward her? Nor was Bessy long insensible to his addresses, and, though her playful and innocent coquetry left him for a considerable period in doubt as to the state of her feelings towards him; yet, this very coquetry seemed

destined to produce a result fatal to herself, as it roused him the more effectually from the languor which had oppressed him, awoke in him an interest and excitement, and elicited numberless fascinations which might have remained unnoticed had her manners been more distant and formal on the one hand, or had she seemed on the other, more easy and open to conquest. As it was, each soon received a sensible impression from the other's attractions, and looked forward with delight from day to day to the renewal of their intercourse. Montgomery, with his usual tact, won the good will even of the cold Mr. Bell, and began to be looked upon as a constant visiter at his house. His daughter was seldom absent, and, as before, with her early friend, their recreations and pursuits became the same, and as he walked or rode by her side, with admirable versatility of talent he accommodated his thoughts and feelings to her's, and was now as light and gay in his topies of conversation with Bessy, as he had been grave and speculative with Mary.

At length, a lawsuit in which he was engaged, demanded his presence in England within the course of a few days, and he determined, though with considerable compunction, to sound Miss Bell's feelings, and, should he find them propitious, to make an immediate declaration of his own. This important step, he reserved for his last day in the country, and on the morning previous engaged to accompany the fair object of his now undivided passion in her usual ride.

For the first time, and he now remarked it with deep uneasiness, she led the way toward farmer Gray's cottage. Of her former intimacy with his daughter, Montgomery, by some strange chance, had never heard. Each of them perhaps, had thought of it as a painful subject, and one, too sacred, it might be, to be intruded on a stranger's attention. But the reaction of restrained feeling is often more lively than its original force, and on this occasion as the pretty farm-house at the foot of the mountain came suddenly in view, Bessy was as instantaneously overcome, and bursting into tears, There," she exclaimed, " even there lives one who is dearest to me on earth!"

What? Mary? stammered Montgomery, and, but that his companion was herself so touched at that bitter moment, his guilty confusion could never have passed unobserved. Little did either imagine that the pitiable subject of the thoughts of each, was at that same instant gazing from a shrubbery on the road side, who, after a long wild stare, reeled and fell to the ground!

They had paused for some time involuntarily, Bessy yielding to pathetic and sad remembrances, while Montgomery's heart was nearly rent asunder by a thousand maddening and conflicting emotions; at length they, each as involuntarily, turned their horses' heads and pursued their way homeward in melancholy and ill-omened silence. He was engaged for the same evening to meet a large party at Mr. Bell's, and it was not until they sat together at dinner that almost a syllable was interchanged between them; even then it cost an effort on both sides. The company observed it and rallied cach on their depression, and Bessy was ere long, again the centre and attraction of all cheerfulness. Montgomery still maintained a gloomy taciturnity, for which the frightful convulsions of his mind that morning but too truly accounted. Bessy herself, was surprised, when it no longer seemed to originate in compliment to her own feelings; but still following the bent of a fond woman's credulity, she gave it the flattering interpretation of extreme regret at his carly intended absence.

The ladies had long retired, and Montgomery had fortified himself with deep and long potations, ere he found it possible to gain even an artificial excitement. Under such influence, he at length appeared in the drawing room, and hastening again to Bessy's side, he lavished on her to an extravagant excess, all the flattery and compliment of which he was so finished a master. He led her to the piano-forte, hung over her chair, mingled his manly voice with her own sweet thrilling notes, and during each pause, whispered in her ear his fixed and unalterable devotion.

They were, after some time, induced by the delighted audience, to attempt a celebrated duet, the most difficult they had yet performed, and peculiarly expressive of tender and impassioned sentiments. It was in the

midst of this, and when Montgomery was taking his part with exquisite taste and masterly skill, that a servant slipped into his hand a note which had been just delivered to him. He held it with the air of one totally abstracted in his occupation until it was Bessy's turn to respond, as she did with power equal to his own; then he ventured to snatch one hasty glance at its superscription. It seemed to contain a deadly spell-his very reason appeared to fail him-he staggered to the door, to the astonishment of all present, and seizing his hat, and seeming to fly from their attentions, rushed with the speed of madness to the stable yard, mounted his saddled horse and galloped furiously

Often after that night, did Montgomery curse the perfections of the animal which carried him, that he dashed him not to atoms on the rough roads which he passed. On, on he rode, pushing him at the height of his speed, nor pulled a rein till he arrived at the Gray's cottage. It was already an hour past midnight, when he paused scarce knowing where he was, and having come so far without fixed purpose or intent. All around was calm and quiet, in awful contrast to the tumult that raged within him. The farmer and his household had long retired to rest; yet there was one sleepless being within that heard the horse and guessed at its rider. It was a moment of fearful excitement, and having almost mechanically led the reeking animal to a stall, he struck his hand against his forehead, and endeavoured to regain the composure which he appeared to have utterly lost. That he soon found was, at the moment, hopeless; and fearful of himself, frantic and distracted as he was, he determined to await the morning ere he sought admission at the cottage. He wandered round the environs of the farm, and as each familiar spot recurred to his eye beneath the clear moonlight, which he had trod so often with the

lost, the loving Mary, he imprecated the deepest curses upon his own devoted head. At length the night clouded, as if in unison with his thoughts, the moon disappeared from the heavens, the storm rose apace, the rain descended thick, drifting, and violent. Involuntarily he bared his head and bosom to its assaults, and felt, for the moment, the first relief from frenzy. But in its place came reason, once more calm and cool, and he felt he had but awakened to a clearer sense of his misery. The lightning began to flash, and as its transitory brightness aided the grey glimmering of morning, he traced the expressions of the almost forgotten note. Deadly sickness came over him-a spasmodic shudder-a gravelike chill-and, staggering to a stable door, he sunk senseless beneath his steed upon the straw.

The farmer was, as usual, the first astir, and on going out was surprised to see that door but half-closed. He entered hastily, and was horror-smitten at the spectacle within. There lay Montgomery, as if in the grasp of a cruel and violent death, his throat and breast still bare, his face distorted, his hands clenched, and his hair damp and dishevelled. On closer examination, the farmer was rejoiced to discover that life yet remained and being somewhat skilled in surgery, a pow er which his retired situation often called into practice-he bore his patient to the cottage, and having bled him freely, used every means to recal the existence which seemed so fast ebbing. Nor were they long without effect; and whilst he bent over him, anxiously watching their progress, and having administered a gentle opiate, laid him in his own bed, and sat him down by the side, he gave up his mind to innumerable conjectures upon the cause which might have reduced Montgomery to such a fearful situation.

His horse might have taken fright, and fled to a haunt once so familiar. He might have been attacked by ruffians, with whom the forest was said occasionally to abound, and fled for protection to his house, whilst the violence of their assaults, or the exhaustion of fatigue, would account for his having been found insensible. These, and a thousand such accidents, his imagination speedily suggested; but they were soon discarded successively, and as it

were by instinct, his fears settled finally on the truth-that all he saw was connected, though he guessed not how, with the interests of his beloved daugh

ter.

Instantly he sought her chamber. She heard with little surprise, that Montgomery was in the house; but was deeply shocked to learn his pitiable condition. She accompanied her father to his bedside, and along with him watched over the wretched being it contained, with a deep intensity of emotion, until a long drawn sigh and violent contortion at length betokened his reviving sense, and then, in bitterness and misery, she glided back to her own apartment. The farmer, in the mean time, had resumed his painful reverie. During the last three months he had laboured under continual anxiety and doubt, concerning the lovers' unaccountable separation, and had latterly yielded to dark suspicions as to the purity of Montgomery's intentions, whose unworthiness he believed his daughter might have earlier detected and acted accordingly. Even his present compassion could not prevent their growing form; and it is not then to be wondered at, that when at length the patient opened his eyes, and rolled them wildly round ere he could recollect and account for his present situation, which he finally testified by grasp ing convulsively the hand of his kind physician, that the latter replied to his wistful look, by saying abruptly,

"Mr. Montgomery, I am a plain spoken man, and you must not be offended by my asking, what brought you here, or rather, was it to marry my daughter that you came ?"

Marry her!" exclaimed the unhappy young man-" Marry, did you say? yes, yes!-it was to marry her-and oh! if you have a heart, but prevail on her this hour-to-morrow-or the next day or when and where she pleases!" The farmer was at once disarmed of every angry feeling, and all again was the tenderest and most attentive kind ness. Finally, he undertook to gain for him an interview with his daughter, and left him for that purpose; while Mont gomery, whose powerful constitution had already rallied considerably, made the necessary preparations in case his request should be granted.

And, after a long interval, it was so. Wrought up to the highest pitch of VOL. I.

excitement, he received and obeyed the summons-and they met. But alas! how changed was the fair creature before him, from the bright young being he had once known and loved, in the beauty of opening womanhood, in the charms of happy innocence, in the spring-day of health and hope, almost a stranger to care, and possessing within herself a world of fascination, and of peace. Now, that cheek was lighted up as brilliantly as ever—but it was with a hectic flush; that eye was as bright-but with the glaze of disease; that brow was as eminently fair but with the wan pallor of death.

What passed during that sad interview never transpired to any. His voice had been elevated in the various tones of supplication, of passion, and of anguish ; even his bitter sobs were heard distinctly through the cottage. She had always spoken in the lowest accents of calm resolution and collected dignity. At length there was a long pause-there was one heart-breaking groan-the door opened, and Montgomery rushed to the stable, and, having thrown himself on his horse, and galloped furiously to Omagh, called wildly for a post-chaise, and took the road to Dublin. There were no tidings of him afterward for many a week, save a hasty note to his friend, apologising for his abrupt departure.

It were idle to detail the innumerable conjectures and rumours in the neighbourhood concerning his strange conduct the preceding evening, and his sudden and mysterious disappearance. Idler far were the hope of describing the woeful feelings of the terrified, the forsaken Bessy. She had just learnt what it was to love, and be beloved, when the cup of happiness was dashed from her lips; she had just felt the full brightness of the vision, when it vanished from her straining gaze.

**

*

It was in the noon of the 20th August, one year from the day on which he had first seen Mary, and during that short year what misery had he not wrought for himself and others? that Frederick Montgomery arrived in Omagh, having ridden by easy stages from the metropolis. He was much and visibly changed. His face had lost its former sweet expression, his cheek was pale, his lip colourless, his eye was

I

wilder than before, and his brow wore the ravages of illness, and the traces alike of harrowing affliction and deep despair. What had brought him thither he dared not to ask himself. Could it be to look once more on the waste,

the ruin he had made?

He partook of some refreshment, and prepared to resume his lonely way. As he awaited the appearance of his horse, the church-bell threw sullenly on the air its awful lament of death. He listened calmly for a moment, then burying his face in his hands, yielded himself up to the succession of bitter emotions that those sounds inspired; and the groom had summoned him thrice ere he started from his sad reverie. He mounted, rode slowly up the street, and saw the mournful paraphernalia of mortality enter the church-yard as he was about to pass. Under an involuntary impulse he paused, and moved after the sorrowful crowd toward the gate. He thought he heard some whispers of his name in the procession, but was too deeply abstracted to listen with much attention.

At length he reached the gate-there was, immediately within, a newly dug grave, and the coffin was being lowered from the hearse. As he gazed almost unconsciously around-suddenly, like the lightning's flash-he caught the chief mourner's eye-that chief mourner was farmer Gray, and in that glance what was there not conveyed! seemed to pierce him to the heart, and turning round instantaneously, he fled with the mad speed of the criminal, down the precipitate hill, and whither? -and wherefore?

It

That terrible evening, Bessy was sitting in a little arbour which Montgomery's hands and her own had raised in happier days, and she looked on the last beams of the setting sun, and thought how the wit and merriment of which she was then the mistress were now as faint and evanescent as the expiring glories on which she gazed. Then her ideas, as they wandered in a pensive strain, reverted to her happy school-days, to her beloved companion in them all. Oh! if she had known that the faithful, the wellremembered, the once lovely being, was at that very moment being consigned as dust to dust.

Suddenly there was a step-there

At

was a voice, and in another instant she was folded in the arms of Montgomery! It was a long-an impassioned, as it had been an involuntary caress. length it was over, and tears, while they relieved her, prevented her for a while from observing the ghastly, the frantic expression of him who still wildly gazed upon her. But it could not be longer unnoticed, and terrified and horrorstruck-"What means that look ?" she exclaimed. "Oh, dearest Frederick, you have never yet recovered from the shock of that awful night," and she burst into a new passion of tears.

"In truth," he replied slowly, and gasping for breath, "in truth it was a fearful shock; and the next day" he paused, and added convulsively—“ the next day I was to have asked you marry me. Oh, Bessy! dearest, bestbeloved, would you have been the wife of the

to

"Murderer" he would have added, but he sunk powerless on the ground.

After a considerable interval he revived. A servant was chaffing his temples. Bessy stood near, intensely occupied with a paper she held, while her eye glanced from line to line with wild rapidity. It was the manuscript from which some of the leadiag facts I have related were originally extracted, and as Montgomery started up, and caught the reader's eye, she would have fallen had he not folded her in his arms. He laid her tenderly on the ground-staggered a few yards from the spot-there was the report of a pistol

and all was over. She recovered but too speedily to hear that deadly sound. She rushed to the fatal spot, and threw herself on the bleeding and mangled corpse. At length she was torn away, borne to the house, and laid in her bed under the rage of a delirious fever. Long was her exist. ence hopeless. But joy was in every countenance, when after nineteen day's there was a plain and evident improve. ment. Then came a few lucid intervals, during which who would not have wept with her? And then a relapsc. And after two months she rose from that bed an unconscious idiot.

It were impossible to describe the emotions with which I listened to this deeply pathetic tale. Two mountains, as I have said, serve to keep up its recollection amidst the scenes of its sad occurrences; and the weatherwise