municate with madame Lauza, and that his visit was in consequence of such recommendation. Mr. Middleton however, apparently, entertained no suspicion from Clare having called-upon madame Lauza, but presumed that he had taken-hisdeparture from Ventnor, early that morning; and Clare, himself, had shewn, by his sudden retreat, how anxious he was to keep his visit a secret from Mr. Middleton, his bosom-friend and earnest admirer. But the most extraordinary and inexplicable circumstance, in Clare's conduct, was the fact communicated by Mr. Middleton, of his being on the eve of marriage to a french lady-a rich widow-with whom, notwithstanding the supposed facility and dispatch of such alliances, he must have been acquainted, long before his introduction to her, who was now the professed object of his idolatry. Under these circumstances, how could madame Lauza, for one moment, believe the sincerity of his protestations, in regard to Matilda; and yet, what motive could he have in feigning a passion, which he did-not feel; and why should he so earnestly desire to possess a token, like the miniature, which had called-forth his rapturous encomiums, if he had no affection for the person, whose memory it was intended to perpetuate.

These questions occasioned madame Lauza no slight uneasiness, incapable as she was of explaining the inconsistency which they involved. Not that she suspected Clare of any design-her disposition was too charitable for that--beyond what he had openly avowed. Neither did she doubt, but that the miniature, for the loan of which he had, in her own language, so thoughtlessly importuned her, would be returned agreeably to his engagement. But, still, should the circumstance, by any fortuitous mischance, ever came to her husband's knowledge; his fierce passions, and implacable jealously, caused her to shudder at the resentment which, from prior experience, she anticipated would be its terrible and inevitable result.

It was in the afternoon, of the same day, on which the events took-place, recorded in our last chapter, that madame Lauza was invited to a fête champêtre, for which the delightful pleasure-grounds of lady Seabright had been selected, as the most appropriate arena. Mr. Middleton, the most learned, and eminent personage in the Island-for, in that great man were united those two discordant elements, erudition and popularity, of course, was present, as the representative of the intelligence of the age, and as the indefatigable old gentleman, was never so happy as when engaged in the prime business of his existence,-mental enlightenment—he gladly availed-himself of this opportunity of exhibiting his favorite hobby, in a manner, that must necessarily command universal astonishment and applause. To this end, therefore, imitating the example of Franklin, he provided-himself with a gigantic kite, to the string of which, a brass chain, and a leaden vial, and other philosophical adjuncts were attached, such being the apparatus requisite for the attainment of his daring purpose, that of eliciting lightning from the clouds.

Surrounded by a circle of gay and gentle friends-comprising all the youth, fashion and beauty, which such immense preparations were calculated to convene, Mr. Middleton, in his well-known spectacles, was anxiously watching the lowering clouds above him, from which he solicited its electrical tenant to elope; but notwith

standing his fascinating aspect, and the pleasant little device of jerking the string, by way of encouragement, the bashful fluid could-not be inveigled from its aerial home. In vain, his indulgent friends endeavored to persuade him to relinguish the attempt-in vain, they sympathised with him, ascribing the failure not to inexpertness or deficiency on his part, but, to the peculiar condition of the atmosphere-one, observing that it was too dry-another, suggesting that it was too humid—a third, suspecting that there was too much wind; and a fourth, firmly believing that an active current of air was indispensable for the success of such experiments, as those which Mr. Middleton had undertaken. None of these soothing arguments could reconcile Mr. Middleton to the non-performance of his self-imposed task; and irritated by the prolonged delay, he gave the string two or three violent jerks, when it suddenly snapt, and away flew the kite, over hedges and trees, no less to the chagrin of its owner, than to the irrepressible merriment of the spectators, who, including some of the juvenile population of the district, amid shouts of laughter, followed the fugitive in its erratic career, till it descended safely on the church-steeple, where it remained, a striking and melancholy memorial of the vanity of human wishes, and of the discomfiture of philosophical aspirations.

Madame Lauza, who was passionately fond of flowers, took-advantage of the opportunity, which the occurrence, above described, afforded her, to inspect the choice exotics, which had been brought, hither, for display, on this interesting occasion. Walking along the gravelled terrace, in a somewhat retired part of the grounds, and which was separated from the high-road by a dwarf-fence, her attention was arrested by a letter on the grass-plat, where it must have been but recently dropped, as it could-not long have remained there without attracting observation. The astonishment of madame Lauza may readily be imagined, when, on picking it up, she found that it was directed, in an unknown hand, to herself. Before she had time to ascertain the purport of this mysterious epistle, a man, having the appearance of a Lascar, and wearing a twisted turban of white cloth, presented-himself on the opposite side of the fence, and, by his gestures-being, apparently, unable to speak any but his native tongue-gave madame Lauza to understand, that he had been the bearer of the letter, which had so powerfully excited her curiosity and surprise. The letter, in question, ran as follows:-" Madam-you will pardon the liberty of a stranger in thus addressing you, when apprised of the motive which animates him in the performance of a duty, which considerations of the highest moment, alone, could induce him to undertake, regardless of misconstruction, or of any more direct, personal sacrifice, to which his temerity may expose him, should his confidence be betrayed. The feelings, madam, which urge me to pen the disclosures, which I am about to make-disclosures which must necessarily be painful and distressing, in the highest degree, to one in your position are those of humanity towards an innocent, but unhappy girl, and of justice towards an unsuspecting wife, whom I would fain awaken to a sense of the wrongs which have been inflicted upon her, by strippingoff the mask of hypocrisy, which has so long been worn by him, whose treachery it behoves every man of honor to repudiate, and every woman of virtue and understanding, to regard with scorn and detestation.

"Without further preface, permlt me, madam, to lay before you a brief statement of facts, assuring you, at the same time, that the circumstances I am about to describe, have been brought under my observation by those, for whose veracity I willingly hold-myself responsible.

"In the month of September, 18—, signor Lauza, (your present husband,) who was then an inhabitant of the island of St. Juan de Ulna, became acquainted with a young, Spanish lady, named Leila Idoberez, who, with her widowed mother, resided on a farm, which had been bequeathed to her by her late husband, whose affairs, owing to neglect and mismanagement, were greatly embarrassed, at the period of his decease. Leila was beautiful as light, but guileless and unsuspecting as a child. In short, Ferdinand Lauza, who had long been celebrated for his liaison, became passionately enamoured of her, and one obstacle, alone, prevented him from asking her hand in marriage--the meagreness of her fortune-an insurmountable barrier; for, if Ferdinand Lauza had one propensity more powerful than another, it was avarice—that lowest and most degrading foible of humanity—and by which he was characterised in all his pursuits. Under these circumstances, Ferdinand Lauza adopted one of the basest stratagems, to attain his nefarious purpose, that the most successful candidate for eternal infamy could devise or perpetrate. What words can express the horror which you must feel, when I assure you, madam, that, on the night of his father's funeral, Ferdinand Lauza, impelled by an execrable passiondeaf to the voice of honor-defying all laws, both human and divine-by the agency of his slaves, set-fire to the dwelling of this wretched girl; and while the flames were spreading terror and consternation among those, who were deprived by this calamity, of all they possessed, his myrmidons carried-off the poor young creature, whose shrieks and tears were dimned in the rude clamor of the demons, in human form, who gathered round the carriage, in which she was rapidly conveyed to a villa, at some miles distance, where Ferdinand Lauza was waiting the result of his atrocious machinations. The victim of this foul plot, finding entreaty fruitlessescape impossible-resigned-herself to her miserable destiny.

"When Lauza left this country, for England, he promised Leila, that, on his return, he would make that reparation, which he acknowledged to be due to one, whose fame and happiness he had so cruelly destroyed. With anxious hope, the poor young girl looked-forward to this auspicious era, when, alas! to her despair, intelligence arrived, that Ferdinand Lauza was wedded to another. For days and weeks, poor solitary Leila wept, incessantly; still, she would-not believe that the man, who possessed such intense devotion, could be guilty of such heartless ingratitude. Yesterday, however, her doubts were all dispelled, for Lauza, himself, arrived here, and acknowledged that he was-not in a situation, now, to redeem his promise, Notwithstanding this, he repeated his protestations of attachment-called Heaven to witness that his heart was still unchanged, and that, although circumstances of a pressing nature had compelled him to bestow his hand upon an Englishwoman, his love for

Leila was as ardent and unchangeable as ever, and that he only waited for the opportunity, which your declining health and speedy dissolution would afford him, to bestow upon her that name and those privileges, to which she had a better claim than any other woman upon earth.

"I need-not pursue this sickening theme. I have said enough, madam, to shew you, in his proper colors, the man-branded with infamy-who may have become the unworthy object of your affections. The bearer, herself, is one of the creatures employed by Lauza, in the abduction of his victim, and will confirm, in every particular, the statement, which I respectfully submit to your most serious consideration." The letter was signed with a dagger-thus and was dated "Venezuela, South America."

The first impression which this communication made on Julia's mind, was a conviction of its perfect falsehood-that it had been fabricated by some malicious person, who adopted this mode of calumniating her husband, in retaliation for some real or imaginary injury. Her confidence in his honor and fidelity, was unlimited; but, even, had it been otherwise, the story by which both were so recklessly assailed, was so extravagant, that Julia would have felt it impossible to give it credence. Again, the allusion to her husband's avarice, (a most ridiculous assertion) proved that the writer was totally ignorant of the character of the individual who had rendered-himself obnoxious to his enmity-a man of more liberal disposition, or one who despised every approach to meanness, could-not, possibly, exist. Though some what averse from promiscuous society—and though his manners were-not particularly adapted to conciliate strangers-he was profuse in his expenditure, and boundless in his hospitality. The style, too, of this mysterious communication, was-not that of a purely disinterested writer-certain little terms of expression betrayed that his abhorrence of the crime was-not altogether unmixed with personal hatred of the criminal. Convinced, therefore, that the letter was undeserving of a moment's consideration, Julia folded it up, and was about to return it to the Lascar, when her attention was arrested by the sound of footsteps, and, turning-round, she beheld Mr. Clare, who had just entered the grounds, by a small wicket, near the terrace, and who was now approaching her with hasty steps.

"I have-not a moment to stay," he said, extending his hand, and gently pressing that of madame Lauza; "but, as I was coming along the road, I met this poor man, who shewed me a letter, with your address upon it, and who, being unable to read, had some difficulty in finding-out your residence. I directed him, as well as I was able; but fearing that he might have made some mistake, I thought, upon further reflection, that it would be advisable to follow him, and ascertain whether he had succeeded in his mission."

"You are very kind," said madame Lauza, smiling. "You see the letter has arrived quite safe."

"I hope that you will-not deem my interference obtrusive, on this occasion," returned Mr. Clare, with his wonted politeness.

"Not at all," replied madame Lauza; "though the object of your solicitude scarcely deserved so much trouble as you have bestowed upon it. I was just going

to deliver it to the messenger, that he might return it to his master, who is a perfect stranger to me, and whose name, even, I never heard-of before."

"Indeed," said Mr. Clare, with surprise; "but why do you wish to return it? Does it contain anything of an objectionable nature ?"

"It is a tissue of falsehoods, Mr. Clare," replied Julia, "invented by some evildisposed person, who wishes to injure Mr. Lauza, and which would be ridiculous, were they not so full of malice; but, to shew my correspondent what value I attach to his amiable communication, I shall send it back opened and unanswered."

"O! 1 would-not do that," cried Mr. Clare; "I would keep it, certainly, were it merely to enable me to trace the writer."

"There is no necessity for adopting any severe proceedings," returned madame Lauza. "To know that his calumnies are treated with indifference, will be a sufficient punishment for his evil intentions."

“That's true," said Mr. Clare, with great seriousness of manner; "but you should-not condemn, too hastily-there may be some truth in it, though, perhaps, slightly exaggerated. When men write, under the influence of any strong emotion, their impressions are vivid, and their tone may be somewhat too vehement—still, the foundation on which they build, may be substantial, and facts are tangible objects, however much they may be distorted by the medium through which they are brought under our observation."

"O no!" cried madame Lauza, smiling at the earnestness of Clare, which would have done-credit to any advocate in a criminal court, "there is-not one word of truth in it, I assure you, from beginning to end."

"I would read it through, once more, carefully," said Clare, “and then—” "Were I to read it twenty times, Mr. Clare, it would-not alter my opinion," replied Julia. "There is the letter-you can read it, if you think proper. I am sure signor Lauza would-not be angry at my giving you this liberty, for the imputations on his conduct are so very-very bad, that they require no contradiction from him whatever the poison carries with it its own antidote."

Clare received the letter with apparent hesitation. A slight feeling of delicacy restrained him in availing-himself of the privilege granted him by madame Lauza. He had scarcely time, however, to glance at its contents, when he was interrupted by the report of an approaching multitude, and, presently, Mr. Middleton appeared in the distance, bearing his electric kite, tattered and dismantled, and accompanied by the friends who had assisted him in its recovery.

As Clare had no time to spare for philosophical enquiries, he hurriedly bade madame Lauza, good day, and took-his-departure by the gate, at which he had entered, while Julia rejoined the festive circle, that always waited upon the inexhaustible philosophy of Mr. Middleton, beguiled by the charms of whose pleasant and edifying discourse, madame Lauza thought no more of the letter, which, as subsequent events will shew, was destined to be one of the most powerful agents in accomplishing her ultimate destruction.