it dear mother-do you think, be too much for my father, if he were to see Captain Percy ?" "No-no; let me see that good young man, if it be possible; my dying blessing is all I have to bestow on him, for his kindness to me and mine." Marcia glided out of the room. "My father wishes to see you," said she, laying her white hand on his arm; "he is very collected, and speaks with vigour; but I fear, greatly fear, it is but the precursor of—” her sobs prevented her saying more. A smile of pleasure lighted up the wan countenance of the dying man, as Percy presented himself by the bed-side. "Kind friend," said he, pressing his hand affectionately; "were you but as old as I am, with what satisfaction should I consign my family to your care; but-" "Were I your son, my dear sir-were Mrs. Ford my mother-were Rhoda my sister, would it then give you pleasure, to leave them to my care ?" "Can you doubt it! but what do you mean ?" and the eyes of the dying man dilated with unexpected pleasure. "I mean to ask you to give me this precious hand, and thus to bind me to you all, by a tie that cannot be broken," said Percy, as he took the hand of the trembling Marcia in his, and placed it in that of her father. With a hand of each, united in his own -he pressed them to his pale lips, and then said 'Lord, now let thy servant depart in peace !" he closed his eyes, but his lips moved as if in prayer; and, in this way, he lay for the space of ten minutes; while Marcia received the whispered blessing of her mother, and the congratulatory embrace of her sister. ""Tis a melancholy betrothment," said she, in a low voice to Rhoda, "but, is it not nobly done, to bring peace to his dying moments ?" Another warm embrace expressed Rhoda's sympathy with her sister. It may seem singular, but it is of no uncommon occurrence, that immediately before dissolution, the voice should recover its usual strength. It was so with Mr. Ford; for, though he occasionally gasped for breath, during the foregoing conversation, his voice came shrill and clear, like the tones caused by unusual excitement: yet his manner was perfectly collected. He again talked to his family, with the calmness of perfect health-begged that they would bury him where he was, and avoid all unnecessary expense and trouble. He then took a solemn leave of each of his weeping family, again thanked Percy for the peace he had given to his dying moments, by the assurance, that he should now leave his family in kind, and honorable protection, and awaited with perfect composure for the final summons, which was not long delayed. He breathed his last in the arms of his wife, with his children kneeling round his bed. Had not his duty called him away, Captain Percy would have deemed it right to leave the widow and her children to their private sorrows. He was compelled to be absent for a time, but he hoped to be able to return to them early enough to order everything that it would be necessary to have done. CHAPTER V. By the hope within us springing, By that dawn whose light is bringing Oh, remember! life can be No charm for him who lives not free. MOORE. No time was lost by Macalbert in assembling the force, which he had been training for some time past, within the little-frequented and almost inaccessible district he had fixed on to |