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her father, that she sprang to her feet with a shriek of horror,-her small hands clenched, and her eyes on fire with indignation and surprise. "The black villain !" exclaimed Annie passionately; "Donald Bane would as soon steal the moon from heaven as one of those glittering stones from his master's house. It is to screen his own foul deed that he has stolen my father's skean. I knew he was a villain ; the spirit within me rose against him. And is it of him they would make a farmer in Glenore? Is it to him that my father opens his heart and his home?-he that will make me turn my back on Eichen Dhu?” and seeming to have forgotten his presence in her violent excitement, after another burst of passionate indignation, she turned flushed and panting with some unspoken purpose to descend the cliff.

Eichen sprang before her, and wiled her back with words of reasoning and entreaty. He trembled for the consequence of her precipitation, and exerted his utmost efforts of persuasion to soothe her natural anger, and engraft prudence and discretion on its youthful violence. It was long before Annie could be induced to defer her appeal to her father till it might be made with most effect. She would have sought him out on the instant, in the face of the whole community-would have brought him to the spot where lay the evidence of his favourite's treason, and bidden him proclaim himself an honest man, and his secret enemy a thief and a villain. But Eichen prevailed at last, and she promised that her father should hear her strange news in private-that the name of the discoverer should be suppressed-and that beneath the pine shadow of St. Anne's, Eichen should meet her in the gloaming to hear the miller's opinion of the discovery, and the course he intended to pursue with regard to it. It was the best arrangement which Annie's unexpected admission into the fatal secret would permit; and the young people parted with an additional tie to each other, and a sort of tacit understanding that Hugh's place at Imer Veolan might not long be vacant.

Eichen proceeded slowly and thoughtfully about his morning's occupations; and if the labour of the youthful mountaineer had been often as imperfectly performed, the reputation of his superiority would have stood but on feeble ground. His very consciousness seemed absorbed by the anticipation of his meeting with Annie, and the possible results of her interview with her father; and he turned up his face again and again to the lazy sun, with the most impatient glance he had ever cast upon its onward progress. At last the red orb of the lingering autumn leant his fiery disk upon Skian Var-the still wave lay crimsoned by his glance and before the glowing clouds of the west had lost one tittle of their transitory glory, Eichen took his way to the trysting place of St. Anne's, and cast his keen and earnest glance along the winding pathway that led to the mill of Imer Veolan. The eve was wearing on, and Eichen would have thankfully exchanged a portion of his scanty hopes for the certainty that she would come at all;night was at hand-the stars grew clearer and more intense in the deep blue heavens, and the dim twilight darkened into approaching nightthe last note of the blackbird had died away, and even the melancholy booming of the cushat came at intervals of more lengthened distance. By and by the dull ominous hooting of the owl and the startling croak of the raven were all the symptoms of companionship left to Eichen, and his heart grew heavy with the breathless solitude and the dim vague influence of superstition. He would not leave the spot, however, while it was possible for Annie still to reach it, and he walked

up and down within the shade of the fir trees longing for even a moonbeam to scare the thick darkness; but the moon was hidden by a bank of heavy clouds that curtained the eastern sky, and the free and shadeless azure was occupied alone by the inferior light of the twinkling stars. At last the conviction forced itself upon him that she would not come. Annie was too timid to venture even thus far from home by the starlight only, and slowly and sadly he turned his face towards the path that led to his home in the hamlet.

Some invisible influence was upon him, for he could not seek his pillow without once more assuring himself of the safety of the fatal casket upon which curious eyes might fall with an effect so deadly. He left the homeward path, and sauntered on to the Kelpie's cragthat fated spot, to which, in a moment of madness, he had linked himself by a tie so hateful. As Eichen gazed upon the fated spot, something white and fluttering was distinguishable in the darkness; he fancied it might be an eagle lured by the white fleeces of the valley, and was about to scare him by a whooping cry, when the motion of the object, which appeared to steal along the surface of the ground, convinced him that he was mistaken, and that the apparition was no bird but the likeness at least of a human being.

Eichen Dhu stopped short, and his breath came fast and fitfully, as the image of the water-spirit come to redeem his treasure flitted dimly across his brain; but the recollection that his was not after all the doomed caldron, caused him to smile at so groundless an apprehension, and the suspicion that this might be some more substantial visitant whom he should find it of importance to intercept, induced him to quicken his pace in the direction of the crag itself. A few moments longer, however, and he stopped involuntarily to watch the singular motions of the solitary wanderer. The figure had quite surmounted the cliff, and stood perfectly defined even in the darkness upon its bare summit,-a small light form, which its white garment and floating curls told the, trembling heart of Eichen could belong to none but Annie of Imer Veolan. He almost ceased to breathe in his anxiety to discover what had drawn her to a situation so extraordinary. There she stood peering over into the waters below, and every now and then stooping in a vain attempt to raise some object which seemed too weighty for her strength to move. At last the load was lifted in the arms of the delicate maiden, and the eyes that watched her knew it to be the chest of the Kelpie's pool. She quivered for a second on the edge of the precipice as if endeavouring to give her load an impetus. Eichen's heart ceased its motion-the impetus was indeed given, but it was also shared, for the heavy weight carried the feeble heaver along with it—she vibrated one instant on the extremest ledge-there was a sharp noisy plash in the centre of the Kelpie's Linn, and then the thick black waters gurgled over till they slept again never more to be disturbed by the re-appearance of their prey.

*

*

Donald Bane's guilt was never proved, nor did the suspicion of it ever extend beyond the depths of Eichen Dhu's own bosom; though, when the first keen pangs of his bereavement passed away, he found in the impression of its truth all the explanation of Annie's unfortunate fate which was awarded him. The old man died shortly after of grief for his daughter's untimely and mysterious end; and the mill of Imer Veolan is now a home for the owl and the bittern. Hugh was

in process of time dismissed the service of Colonel Munro, and made some disgraceful end in the Low Countries. It is affirmed, by such as wish for confirmation to the Kelpie's prophecy, that Eichen turned soldier, and died a gentleman in foreign lands; but the only part of the catastrophe of which there seems but one edition is, that the jewel-box of Colonel Munro still rests in the depths of Loch Boyochd to swell the unholy treasure of the Linn of the Caldron.

THE CREMATION OF SHELLEY, ON THE COAST OF TUSCANY, UNDER THE DIRECTIONS OF LORD BYRON.

On a lonely and a foreign shore,
By a wide and boundless sea,

Where the sea-born gales come bounding o'er
A plain of immensity;

A corse was laid on a funeral pyre,

Where the flames were rising high,

And the sentinels paced by that grim watch-fire,
With a hurried and awe-struck eye.

Another, too, a mighty heart,

Stood by the funeral pile,
And he silently took his gloomy post
In the rites that were done the while;
And the red light threw a lurid glare
On his dark but placid brow,
But a giant soul lay sleeping there
As an ember slumbering low.

And the sea beheld, and the mountains saw
That sad and solemn sight,

And the dark waves roll'd in silent awe
Of that last and awful rite;

But the smile of Heaven serenely shone
From the pure transparent sky,

As if the soul of the corse looked on
With a mild and tranquil eye!

And the flames curl'd lightly o'er his head,
And round each rigid limb,

But calm was the face of the beautiful dead,
Though his eye was closed and dim:
Then they bitterly viewed th' increasing glow
Of the fierce red flames which bound him,
As the shipwrecked mariner views the flow
Of the rising tide around him.

They gazed on the present, they thought on the past,
And on what the dead had been,

To that gloomy scene which was his last
When he passed to the world unseen!
And they turned to behold the gift in death
That burnish'd glory gave,-

A funeral pile, and a faded wreath,
A verse, and a sculptured grave!
The rites are o'er-the train is gone,
And the sea-breeze sweeps the plain,
And the tideless ocean murmurs on

In its hoarse and solemn strain;
But the spot is still upon the shore,
On the coast so bleak and bare,
With a poet's ashes sprinkled o'er,-
Tread lightly-tread silently there!

W. D. B.

OLIVER TWIST;

OR, THE PARISH BOY'S PRogress.
BY BOZ.

ILLUSTRATED BY GEORGE CRUIKS HAN K.

BOOK THE THIRD.

CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH.

THE JEW'S LAST NIGHT ALIVE.

THE Court was paved from floor to roof with human faces. Inquisitive and eager eyes peered from every inch of space; from the rail before the dock, away into the sharpest angle of the smallest corner in the galleries, all looks were fixed upon one man-the Jew.. Before him and behind, above, below, on the right and on the left-he seemed to stand surrounded by a firmament all bright with beaming eyes.

He stood there, in all this glare of living light, with one hand resting on the wooden slab before him, the other held to his ear, and his head thrust forward to enable him to catch with greater distinctness every word that fell from the presiding judge, who was delivering his charge to the jury. At times he turned his eyes sharply upon them to observe the effect of the slightest feather-weight in his favour; and when the points against him were stated with terrible distinctness, looked towards his counsel in mute appeal that he would even then urge something in his behalf. Beyond these manifestations of anxiety, he stirred not hand or foot. He had scarcely moved since the trial began ; and now that the judge ceased to speak, he still remained in the same strained attitude of close attention, with his gaze bent on him as though he listened still.

A slight bustle in the court recalled him to himself, and looking round, he saw that the jurymen had turned together to consider of their verdict. As his eyes wandered to the gallery, he could see the people rising above each other to see his face : some hastily applying their glasses to their eyes, and others whispering their neighbours with looks expressive of abhorrence. A few there were who seemed unmindful of him, and looked only to the jury in impatient wonder how they could delay, but in no one face-not even among the women, of whom there were many there could he read the faintest sympathy with him, or any feeling but one of all-absorbing interest that he should be condemned.

As he saw all this in one bewildered glance, the death-like stillness came again, and looking back, he saw that the jurymen had turned towards the judge. Hush!

They only sought permission to retire.

He looked wistfully into their faces, one by one, when they

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