KATHERINE. Heavens! what meanest thou? KURT (in soliloquy.) Thank God! I have gained the goal at last : My mule brought here triumphantly; I well may hope My gold will ope The gates of Peace and Paradise for me. Come then, beloved gold, I crossed the ocean by thine aid: By thee are honest hearts and bold Exertions late or soon repaid. (He takes the money-bag from the table.) I have brought thee from the New World to the Old, To place thee in my parents' hand. Let God direct the rest As unto Him seems best. (He places the bag under the head of the straw mattrass.) All hail, once more, my fatherland! (He stretches himself in bed and falls asleep. The light in the lantern gra dually expires.) I have no such bloody thoughts: he shan't be harmed; And knowing well this outlawed stranger From heaping sin on sin! KATHERINE. WALTER. Thou-would'st not-shed his blood? No, foolish woman, no!—no need to start. But caution in a case like this is good. O, come back! KATHERINE. He is sleeping. WALTER. Where, I wonder, Can he have put his gold ?-Ah! ah! I see it under One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, O, come! KATHERINE (endeavouring to draw him towards the door.) (Walter opens the door softly, and re-enters the outer-room, but staggers back again in a moment, aghast and quivering.) Brr! WALTER (between his teeth.) He sits there-blue, stiff-the old tormentor Dids't thou not mark how horribly he eyed me? Thou dreamest! KATHERINE (looking in.) WALTER (drawing Katherine nearer to him.) There!-Pray!-help me to pray! (He lifts up his hands in a supplicatory attitude.) KATHERINE. O, could I win thee grace by prayer! Our father, who.........hast cursed me!-Ha! see there! See how the sleeper laughs derisively At me! He laughs that I am curst, and he Is not! KATHERINE (still drawing him towards the door.) O, come, lest Satan conquer thee! WALTER. Our father......... Hark! I hear his gold-it cries aloud to me, Midnight! Thou hearest it? KATHERINE. I hear the screech-owls only. No! no! 'tis his gold!-and his gold, his gold will free me for ever, See his audacious red cheeks!-how they laugh!-while I stand here, and shiver. He, forsooth, shall exult in his gold, the sneaking deceiver! He shall be rich and uncurst, and a stranger to famine and fever, My soul from its last hope of Heaven! So, sorcerer, stand and deliver! the mattrass. KURT (half unconsciously.) Ha!-robbers !-murderers! WALTER. Murderer in thy teeth! (He takes the knife from his bosom, and stabs Kurt twice.) KURT (faintly.) By-your-hand, then, my father-I-meet Death! My son !-my son! Read-this-and-see. (Walter staggers back, horror stricken.) KATHERINE (wildly.) KURT. (He half raises himself up with a last effort, and takes from beneath the pillow a paper which he hands to Walter. Walter hurries to the camp.) WALTER (reading) The Passport of Fourt Foruth (The paper drops from his hands.) I see the scythe on's arm. My son my son! KURT (to Walter and Katherine.) Forgiven-you-both. The-curse-is cancelled. Live! And thou dost thou forgive? KURT. • Der Vater, that is, Walter's father. The definite article is frequently used in German poetry instead of the possessive pronoun, especially where the employing of the latter would interfere with the metre. Thus Gellert writes, Ein kranker Vater rief den Sohn-a sick father called the son. In the present instance the transference of this idiom into English becomes unavoidable; for as Conrad was not the father of Katherine, to whom, as much as to Walter, Kurt speaks, the pronoun would be inappropriate and absurd. To the Editor of the Dublin University Magazine. SIR, Having observed the lively interest excited among your readers by the Chapters of College Romance, which have from time to time appeared in your pages, I have been induced to draw up the following narrative of real events, believing that you might consider it worthy to form a supernumerary addition to the series. My style will be so easily distinguished, by its inferiority, from that of the author of those papers, that I shall not, I think, be charged with the intention of intruding as a rival within his proper sphere. But if I enter upon it this once, in the character of an humble assistant, I have good hopes that my apology may be found in the interesting nature of those facts which I shall detail, "Quæque ipse miserrima vidi, It rests with you, sir, to determine whether the justifiableness of such an expectation shall be tested by public opinion. triumphed in the sacrifice of one jot of pride, there remains no longer a calculation whereby we might fathom those depths of reckless desperation, into which their united victim may finally be found to plunge. To the terrible domination of this leagued tyranny, there could be discovered, I think, no better comment, than the following memoirs of an early and valued friend. I shall endeavour to present them with as much interest and connection as possible; although, from the slow degrees by which I gained his confidence, the notes in my journal from which they are to be extracted, display considerable confusion, and often great monotony. My acquaintance with George L commenced in the following manner. Immediately upon my entrauce into the University, I had placed myself under the private tuition of Mr. Ra gentleman well known both for his scientific attainments, and the large number of his pupils. I think it also necessary to mention, that from a sort of hereditary claim which he possessed on me, I felt myself particularly bound to him, when selecting a private lecturer. During my first year, accordingly, I studied under him for every term; but on going to him as usual, with the intention to prepare for the January examination of my second, I was sorry to find that he was on the point of going abroad for three months, as his constant and laborious occupations had seriously affected his health. After expressing my sympathy, I begged of him to recommend me to some other person capable of supplying his place. "As there are many great names in College," he replied, "I should not have ventured to direct your choice, had you not requested me to do so. But now if you will be contented with the assistance of one, who is comparatively scarcely known, but whom I believe competent to do you every justice, I will name him. It would also be an object to him to have you for a pupil." I assented instantly; and being provided with a note of introduction, proceeded to L's rooms, which I found in the garret-story of the same building in the old brick square in which I myself resided. He was at home, and admitted me; and there was something about him which at once forcibly struck me. I recollected, indeed, to have observed him before, but only at a distance, and in the masquerade of academic uniform. None, however, could come in contact with L—————, and not yield to the impression of that intel lectual ascendancy which pervaded his whole appearance. He was rather below the middle size, of a spare habit, but of graceful proportions. His forehead was of the highest and most expansive I have everseen; and its prominence, perhaps, was too remarkable for beauty, how. ever it might betoken talent. His nose was aquiline; his mouth peculiarly small; and his lips thin and rather compressed. But in his dark hazel eye resided the chief charm of his countenance. In its tranquillity there was a pensiveness which set off the languor of his smile; and its clear and steady lustre was lighted with a maturity of genius, a full-growth of thought, which it was impossible to overlook or misconceive. This probably would have gained him credit for a greater than his real age; and a disposition to change of colour in his naturally coal-black hair, together with evident traces of premature anxiety on his brow, would have aided such an error in the observer. His manner was of that gentle and unobtrusive elegance which bespeaks innate refinement; and although singularly reserved and distant on first acquaintance, yet when you came to win him over to a free and unembarrassed intercourse, there was a quiet attractiveness in his conversation, which engaged your deepest interest. Notwithstanding, however, that composure was the characteristic of his general aspect, still from every feature there was an indescribable irradiation of a proud and lofty spirit, which persuaded you that subdued serenity was rather his habit than his nature; and which told you that he had been, and might be again, the victim of wild and perilous excitement. This was among the discoveries which reached me in our first interview; and it was no wonder that I grieved to see him situated as I then and afterwards did. His apartments, as I have said, were in the attic story. This in the Brick Square is devoted, I believe exclusively to the accommodation of Sizars, who are admitted gratuitously, with some privileges, to the benefits of the institution. The quarters allotted to L were very far from being comfortable. I was shewn into a sitting-room of the usual size, but very low and dark; the ceiling sloped for the most part with the roof of the building; and the windows, |