spised and powerless creature; for myself, I am content to be such in the world's eye, and to be again what I have long been, merely the bearer of his name." In the fulness of these resolves, Lady Herbert quitted her daughter's room, and wrote to her husband the following letter:

"I write not to reproach you, Herbert, I write not to adjure you by vows repeated nearly seventeen years ago, to think what promises you have violated-what hopes you have destroyed. I ask you not why you have forsaken me, I ask you not if it is owing to any fault of mine, for I will not wear a false humility, and affect to think I have never been conscious of one defalcation of duty to you in thought, word, or deed. I lavish no fond expressions of love for you; that were now a mockery, and a fraud; but I repeat it, I do not mean to reproach you, except, in as far as facts reproach you. My sole motive in writing to you is to plead for your child's interests. You are bound to her by links and laws of nature, that crime itself cannot break. Sarah is very young, not yet sixteen-not yet entered into the world-must she do so without a father's protection? must he remain as dead to her? I beg of you, Lord Herbert, to tell me whether or not this is so to be.

"Your child does not yet know that you have forsaken her, she is still in ignorance of her misfortune, shall she remain so? If you say yes, never shall the least innuendo of your desertion of us pass my lips. She has never done aught save bless you in her prayers-do you value that innocent one's blessing?-if it is in the least precious to you, return to your own house-seem to love her-mar not the grace and pride of her youth, sear not her heart in its first opening affections-make not her opening years, years of sorrow and humiliation.

"Return to her, return to your home. It is in her name I sue-let no fear of restraint upon your actions, prevent your doing your child this justice-think of me only as of a stranger in your house. The mother of Sarah, will, for Sarah's sake, endure every indignity. It is not the wife who wearies you now by a continual asking for your love. That time is past-love you have quenched-it no longer exists-pardon even this reference to self-it seems necessary to have been made, but having been so, will not be repeated. Francis, the last prayer I make to you is for your "MABEL HERBERT."

child.

CHAPTER VI.

If death were nothing-and nought after death-
If, when men died, at once they ceased to be,
Returning to the barren womb of nothing,
Whence first they sprung-then might the debauchee
Untrembling mouth the heavens: then might the drunkard
Reel o'er his full bowl, and when 'tis drain'd

Fill up another to the brim, and laugh

At the poor bugbear death:

But, if there's an hereafter

........

And that there is, conscience uninfluenced
And suffer'd to speak out, tells every man-
Then must it be an awful thing to die.

BLAIR.

WHEN Lord Herbert recognised Frederick Clermont to be the man in whose arms he had found his sister, he stood for some minutes like one converted into stone: at length he said, "You will answer for your crime to me here, to Heaven hereafter," and left the apartment. Even the bold and lost girl remained long insensible. When she came to a full sense of her situation, she seized the arm of her paramour, and commanded him to fly with her immediately.

No," he said, "Anna, I will not deceive you, I will never fly with you, vengeance has overtaken us, I must abide the result. Go hence, Anna, go! return to Mrs. Elliot, wealth shall be yours, time will restore you to happiness, I hope, but I have forfeited every thing except that poor honour death, which it would be greater cowardice to fly from than to submit to: I mean receiving my punishment from the man I have so grossly injured."

"What, Herbert, you will leave me alone in the world without one friend! Know that there is not such a person as Mrs. Elliot existing. You dare to talk to me of wealth which you have not to give, and which if you had, is no return for the loss of that self-esteem, that abnegation of every thing, in short, which constitutes a woman's pride and con

sideration in the world. You dare to say you will leame now! now! after having accepted of my sacrifice;-but you shall pay me my only due, your presence and your lovenever shall you leave me, I will clasp you hard, I will hold you. I will follow you, I will cling to you, you shall not leave me for an instant."

my

"Anna, calm yourself, if that be possible, and hear me, I will abide your brother's just wrath, but I will never lift hand against him; it is a thousand to one that, agitated as he is, he should hit me, or if he does, that it should be more than a trifling wound; but if it be my death, no matter, it will be well-it will be best so. Poor Mabel! poor Sarah! and at thoughts of them he covered his face, and his breast heaved in agony.

"Wretch! monster!" cried Anna Clermont, " you are thinking of those, whose love is in comparison of mine but as a stagnant pool to an overwhelming torrent; you are thinking of those who are surrounded by troops of honouring friends, by the world's approval, by the comforts and splendour of life; but you cast no thought upon me;-I who have looked upon all these as upon dust in the balance, compared with the enjoyment of your love-and you will forsake me now! you will hazard your life to my brother's vengeance, you will leave me a prey to his scorn! Is that honour? It is selfishness, it is cowardliness; it is the world's dread laugh you fear."

A note was brought in to Lord Herbert, he knew from whom it was, and its contents before he opened it. Frederick Clermont appointed a meeting that night, at a lonely part of the shore, to the left of the town, and desired him to bring a friend with him.

Miss Clermont insisted on seeing the paper.

Lord Herbert tore it.

Suddenly the former assumed a composure which, however, did not deceive her companion; but glad of any change for the time, which gave him liberty to collect his thoughts, he appeared likewise to be deceived: and those two miserable beings sat down opposite each other, looking as though they were formed to be mutual scourges.

Lord Herbert was turning in his mind what course he could pursue to elude Miss Clermont's vigilance, for he dreaded her following him to his rendezvous with her brother; and there was only one that suggested itself to him, which was, to inform the landlady that she was under an

aberration of intellect, and he requested she might be kept in safety during a few hours of absence which he should be necessitated to make that evening; this communication was backed by a bribe, and he passed the intervening hours in a state of feverish wretchedness, which the wicked only know. He likewise managed to mingle some laudanum in a cup of wine which he administered to Miss Clermont, and as the hour of his departure drew nigh he saw the drug take effect; the paroxysms of rage and grief in which she had alternately spent the day, had exhausted her, and the powerful narcotic gradually deadened her senses; she fell into a profound slumber, and he stole from the chamber unperceived. He appointed two women to guard her, whom he saw enter and seat themselves by her couch, and then with a brain on fire he snatched up his pistols mechanically, and sought the spot where Frederick Clermont was waiting for him. A young man, a stranger to Lord Herbert, accompanied the former, who he concluded (and concluded right) came as his second. Lord Herbert bowed, Frederick Clermont moved not from the spot where he stood, nor returned the courtesy. Lieutenant Mason asked him if he had not provided a friend to attend him.

Lord Herbert replied in the negative.

"Then must this meeting be deferred."

"By no means," cried Lord Herbert, "not for a moment. I have perfect confidence in the friend of Captain Clermont; he will see that justice is done alike to friend or foe. Measure the ground, sir, let the signal for firing be agreed upon. This is no common case of quarrel, let it not rest upon the common laws of usance. "Not so," replied he, to whom Lord Herbert addressed himself; "whatever the principals may feel, and however flattering to me the opinion placed in my honour, I should be little deserving of it if I consented to such a proposal. I cannot where life is at stake be the only umpire, this meeting must be deferred."

While he spoke, two men riding rapidly, approached, in one, Lord Herbert recognised Lord de Montmorenci, in the other, his family surgeon. The former had, on leaving Lady Herbert the same night on which the elopement became known to him, set off for Dieppe, having had letters from Captain Clermont, dictated in a frame of mind, which proved that he entertained suspicions of his sister's conduct, which brought him suddenly back to England. Lord de

Montmorenci guessed what the inevitable result would be should they meet, and lost not a moment in hastening_to Dieppe, in the hope of being able to be of some use. He came at the awful moment above described. He said a few earnest words expressive of his abhorrence at the custom of duelling, of its inefficacy to restore honour where honour was lost, to either party, of the far greater honour of restraining passion, and of the injurer making even the most abject apology to the injured: but he was heard with impatience by both parties, and in a manner compelled to become Lord Herbert's second. The ground was measured, the pistols of Captain Clermont examined, to his surprise they were both injured and rendered useless; an awkwardness ensued, Lord de Montmorenci hoped that time at least would be gained for reflection, but Lord Herbert stepped forward and presented the weapons with which he had provided himself, they were the very pistols which Captain Clermont had given to him on his birthday; when the latter saw them he shuddered, and drew his hand across his as a few scalding tears started from them.

eyes,

Lord Herbert perceived the feeling that excited him, he too felt. The seconds proceeded to settle preliminaries. Lord Herbert wished to shorten the paces, but he was overruled. Mr. Clermont was to fire first, Lord de Montmorenci was to give the signal-there was a pause, Lord Herbert spoke, "I particularly request," he said, "if these are the last words I should ever speak, to exonerate Mr. Clermont from all blame whatever in this business-as a man of honour he could not do otherwise." Lord Herbert stepped to his place, so did Mr. Clermont, the latter took a deliberate aim, there was no sign of weakness or tenderness as he stood opposite to his antagonist-the man who had been to him as a father-for he was the seducer of his sister; that thought cancelled every obligation, and made him his deadly foe. His aim was too true, at the signal given he fired, Lord Herbert reeled, but did not fall immediately. He fired in the air, then dropped to the earth: the only words he could utter were, "See that Frederick Clermont is safe, bid him fly; but to this order the latter paid no regard, and kneeling down by Lord Herbert, implored his forgiveness. Lord Herbert was in no condition to speak the words of forgiveness, but he did feel that he forgave, and even justified him. The poor young Frederick Clermont's distraction was pitiable; but as the surgeon seemed to think there were small