"I will not at present hear anything," replied he, "but distinct answers to the questions which I shall put to you upon this matter."

"Then you shall hear nothing," replied she sullenly, and no inducement or intimidation could bring her to speak again.

Lord Glenfallen's deposition and mine were then given, as also those of the servants who had entered the room at the moment of my rescue; the magistrate then intimated that she was committed, and must proceed directly to gaol, whither she was brought in a carriage of Lord Glenfallen's, for his lordship was naturally by no means indifferent to the effect which her vehement accusations against himself might produce, if uttered before every chance hearer whom she might meet with between Cahergillagh and the place of confinement whither she was dispatched. During the time which intervened between the committal and the trial of the prisoner, Lord Glenfallen seemed to suffer agonies of mind which baffle all description, he hardly ever slept, and when he did, his slumbers seemed but the instruments of new tortures, and his waking hours were, if possible, exceeded in intensity of terrors by the dreams which disturbed his sleep. Lord Glenfallen rested, if to lie in the mere attitude of repose were to do so, in his dressing-room, and thus I had an opportunity of witnessing, far oftener than I wished it, the fearful workings of his mind; his agony often broke out into such fearful paroxysms that delirium and total loss of reason appeared to be impending; he frequently spoke of flying from the country, and bringing with him all the witnesses of the appalling scene upon which the prose cution was founded; then again he would fiercely lament that the blow which he had inflicted had not ended all.

The assizes arrived, however, and upon the day appointed, Lord Glenfallen and I attended in order to give our evidence. The cause was called on, and the prisoner appeared at the bar. Great curiosity and interest were felt respecting the trial, so that the court was crowded to excess. The prisoner, however, without appearing to take the trouble of listening to the indictment, pleaded guilty, and no representations on the part of the court, availed to induce her to retract her plea. After much time had been wasted in a fruitless attempt to prevail

upon her to reconsider her words, the court proceeded according to the usual form, to pass sentence. This having been done, the prisoner was about to be removed, when she said in a low, distinct voice

"A word-a word, my Lord :—is Lord Glenfallen here in the court?" On being told that he was, she raised her voice to a tone of loud menace, and continued

Hardress, Earl of Glenfallen, I accuse you here in this court of justice of two crimes,-first, that you married a second wife, while the first was living, and again, that you prompted me to the murder, for attempting which I am to die ;-secure him-chain him-bring him here."

There was a laugh through the court at these words, which were naturally treated by the judge as a violent extemporary recrimination, and the woman was desired to be silent.

You wont take him, then," she said, "you wont try him? You'll let him go free ?"

It was intimated by the court that he would certainly be allowed "to go free," and she was ordered again to be removed. Before, however, the mandate was executed, she threw her arms wildly into the air, and uttered one piercing shriek so full of preternatural rage and despair, that it might fitly have ushered a soul into those realms where hope can come no more. sound still rang in my ears, months after the voice that had uttered it was for ever silent. The wretched woman was executed in accordance with the sentence which had been pronounced.

The

For some time after this event, Lord Glenfallen appeared, if possible, to suffer more than he had done before, and altogether, his language, which often amounted to half confessions of the guilt imputed to him, and all the circumstances connected with the late occurrences, formed a mass of evidence so convincing that I wrote to my father, detailing the grounds of my fears, and imploring him to come to Cahergillagh without delay, in order to remove me from my husband's control, previously to taking legal steps for a final separation. Circumstanced as I was, my existence was little short of intolerable, for, besides the fearful suspicions which attached to my husband, I plainly perceived that if Lord Glenfallen were not relieved, and that speedily, insanity must supervene. I therefore expected my father's arrival, or at least a letter

"Poor devil, she has been hardly used."

"We had better not tease her at present with questions," said I, in as unconcerned a tone as I could assume, although I felt every moment as if I should faint.

Humph! may be so," said he, "well come back in an hour or two, or when you please, and you will find us here."

He again unlocked the door, and entered with the same precautions which he had adopted before, locking the door upon the inside, and as I hurried from the room, I heard his voice again exerted as if in eager parley. I can hardly describe my emotions; my hopes had been raised to the highest, and now in an instant, all was gone the dreadful consummation was accomplished-the fearful retribution had fallen upon the guilty man -the mind was destroyed-the power to repent was gone. The agony of the hours which followed what I would

still call my awful interview with Lord Glenfallen, I cannot describe; my solitude was, however, broken in upon by Martha, who came to inform me of the arrival of a gentleman, who expected me in the parlour. I accordingly descended, and to my great joy, found my father seated by the fire. This expedition, upon his part, was easily accounted for: my communications had touched the honor of the family. I speedily informed him of the dreadful malady which had fallen upon the wretched man. My father suggested the necessity of placing some person to watch him, to prevent his injuring himself or others. I rang the bell, and desired that one Edward Cooke, an attached servant of the family, should be sent to me. I told him distinctly and briefly, the nature of the service required of him, and, attended by him, my father and I proceeded at once to the study; the door of the inner room was still closed, and everything in the outer chamber remained in the same order in which I had left it. We then advanced to the closet door, at which we knocked, but without receiving any answer. We next tried to open the

door, but in vain-it was locked upon the inside; we knocked more loudly, but in vain. Seriously alarmed, I desired the servant to force the door, which was, after several violent efforts, accomplished, and we entered the closet. Lord Glenfallen was lying on his face upon a sofa.

"Hush," said I, "he is asleep ;" we paused for a moment.

"He is too still for that," said my father; we all of us felt a strong reluc tance to approach the figure.

Edward,', said I, "try whether your master sleeps."

The servant approached the sofa where Lord Glenfallen lay he leant his ear towards the head of the recum bent figure, to ascertain whether the sound of breathing was audible; he turned towards us, and said—

"My Lady, you had better not wait here, I am sure he is dead!"

"Let me see the face," said I, terribly agitated, "you may be mistaken."

The man then, in obedience to my command, turned the body round, and, gracious God! what a sight met my view;-he was, indeed, perfectly dead. The whole breast of the shirt, with its lace frill, was drenched with gore, as was the couch underneath the spot where he lay. The head hung back, as it seemed almost severed from the body by a frightful gash, which yawned across the throat. The instrument which had inflicted it, was found under his body. All, then, was over; I was never to learn the history in whose termination I had been so deeply and so tragically involved.

The severe discipline which my mind had undergone was not bestowed in vain. I directed my thoughts and my hopes to that place where there is no more sin, nor danger, nor sorrow.

Thus ends a brief tale, whose prominent incidents many will recognize as having marked the history of a distinguished family, and though it refers to a somewhat distant date, we shall be found not to have taken, upon that account, any liberties with the facts, but in our statement of all the incidents, to have rigorously and faithfully adhered to the truth.

"AND SO our sweet Euphrasia is gone," said I to my cousin Emily, as we strolled together through the old park the morning after my arrival at MHall. "How sudden! Marston and his wife, whom I met at Paris not two months since, said nothing of her illness.'

Emily looked up at me; her eyes were filled with tears, and her lip trembled in a vain effort to suppress feelings that were yet too fresh and strong to be mastered in a moment. After a pause she said

"Not so sudden-she had been for some time ailing. Sir Lucius's illness was a long one, and taxed her strength too severely. Come and I will show you where they have laid them; 'tis not far from this."

We walked forward in silence towards the extremity of the park, each deeply occupied with melancholy musings. Since my absence abroad during three short years, what changes had taken place in my own destinies, as well as in those of others. Euphrasia was just then undergoing the alteration which often accompanies the full development of the female mind and body-passing, by scarce sensible gradations, from the free and joyous girl to the timid, sensitive, and thoughtful woman; and she had since sped through all the fleeting changes of her brief existence-she had been a bride, a widow, and now slept beyond the reach of earthly care and vicissitude in the grave.

We reached a small wicket in the park wall, and passed out into the old church-yard, and up the aisle of the trim and cheerful village church. We stood before a handsome and costly monument, above which rose the rich and pompous carving of armorial bearings, whose boastful motto, relying on the prowess, and lauding the knightly honor of man, stood sternly rebuked by the solemn voice of death, that proclaimed the proud achievements and lofty aspirations of man's spirit but vanity, and himself but the dust of the earth. An inscription in gilded letters, on a white slab, told that "the mortal remains of Sir Lucius

She struggled for a moment vainly with her feelings, and then passionately continued:

"Oh! it was not that it was not that. They know not at the Hall why she died. They never read-they could not read the history of her poor heart."

The flood of feeling had overleaped its bounds, and flowed on unresisted. Emily sobbed in long yet not unrefreshing sorrow upon my shoulder.

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Cousin, I will trust you," she said, when her tears flowed more calmly; "she would have trusted you-but not now. I have been already too weak and foolish, but it is so long since I had any one who could sympathise with me, that I yielded to the indulgence."

As we walked back to the Hall, I led the conversation to indifferent subjects.

"I was delighted to find that your father's ward, Marston, had sown his wild oats, and made so excellent a choice."

"It was, indeed, a most eligible one."

"Besides, I had begun to fear that the whirl of fashionable dissipation in which he was hurried, would have