View him inflicted by the poifon of a corroding confcience-view him haunted by fleshless fpectres, who call aloud for vengeance on their remorseless destroyer-mark the end of the wicked man-view him, weary with existence, die at the feet of a brother deeply injured.' A dagger which had been concealed under his vestments, he haftily drew forth, and before the astonished chieftain could stem the blow, the hopeless heir of mercy had plunged it deep into his guilty bofom. 'Forgive me!-pray for mercy-oh! forgive me he exclaimed as he fell at the feet of his virtuous brother. Convulfive agony feized the heart of the expiring victim-half raising himself, he threw open his arms-the afflicted baron encircled him in an embrace. The pilgrim fixed his eyes above-fhuddered gazed his brother earnestly in the face -funk on the ground, and the spirit of the murderer fled! Suddenly, fhrieks were heard in the air, and fiends, loud-yelling, bore him, amid horrid fhouts of triumph, to the seat of retributive justice. (The manufcript defaced for several pages.) NARRATIVE OF HUBERT, OR THE MURDERER. CHAP. XII. Melancholy lifts her head, Lend thy ferious hearing To what I fhall unfold. Shakespeare. The Pilgrim's Tale. SON OF MY FATHER, 'THE 'HE days of my humiliation are nearly at a clofe.-Prepare thy firmeft refolution, nor fuffer thy wonted fortitude to forfake thee, on the perufal of this narrative of depravity. Whilft these lines, blotted by the tear of contrition, arrest thy serious attention, the unfortu nate victim of inordinate paffions, fleeps in the filence of death-cold will be the hand of the murderer-cold will be the bosom that so lately heaved in wickednefs-and the mortal frame inanimate as the green swarth that covers it. Thy mother was my mother! One womb contained us. 'Give me a little earth for charity.' • On the cold breeze of the waning night, my fupplications are wafted-the gates of mercy are fbut against me-and fuch is the register of my crimes, that the recording angel, fhuddering feized the pen, and wrote in characters of blood! It will be needlefs to enumerate the actions of my earliest days, nor the hatred which rankled in my bofom, at the jefts of my companions for my cowardice. Suffice it to fay, you loved Elwina, and your affection was returned by the blushing fair one. I too, loved her-spoke to her on the fincerity of my affection-I was treated with contempt. From that hour I bowed to the malignant spirit of revenge-my paffion was converted into hate, and every act of kindness you fhewed towards me, I viewed with a jaundiced eye. In folitude I fought relief-revenge-and the defign of murder! Earl Percy was not to be deceived-there was a fanctity in his manners which gave authority, to his precepts, guided by the pruning hand of experience. He watched me narrowly --difcovered my inhuman purpofe-and to escape his wrath, I fled the now deserted manfion of the Percys. Would an avenging thun derbolt, hurled with double force, had ftruck me at the moment. Scenes of my youth-days of other times-cross not my recollection at this awful hour. 'Let me be brief-but oh! fon of my father!" when the dread page is opened to thy view, that fhews to thee the murder of Elwina, wilt thou not hate the morn that faw me into being, and pour just curses on my departed fpirit. Son of my mother, rake not my afhes with a curfe! 'In a few days I arrived at the caftle of De Courcy-the hospitable owner received me with open arms, as the heir of the houfe of Alwyne. A plaufible tale foon won on his indulgent na-ture, and there I chofe my refting place. Yet even in this calm retirement, I nurfed the fatal. propenfities that accompanied me to ruin, and cherished still a passion for the heirefs of LordPercy's fortunes. 'De Courcy had a daughter, adorned with a native grace that captivates more than beauty.. Oh! Agnes!I tremble, and my blood. recoils when I write thy name! She faw me,, and unfortunately loved Flattery, a fure guide to deftruction, reached the mild boiom of poor. Agnes. In an unguarded moment, fhe loft that innocence which fhould have protected her, and drooped a martyr to unrequited love and bafe duplicity.. F 'Soon, too foon, the effects of this illicit commerce were perceptible-fhe revealed to me, blufhing as the orient morn, the delicacy of her fituation--begged me to remember my repeated vows of fidelity, and accompany her to the chapel. 'I promised the ill-fated daughter of De Courcy, and met her at the appointed hour. A folemn filence reigned around, fave when echoing thro' the darkened vaults, were heard the piteous lament of Agnes. Father of mercies, look with compaffion on me!-Oh! my brother!-there flowed in purple ftreams the fpotlefs blood of this angelic maid! Fearful of the wrath of her infulted parent, on the difcovery of the fituation of his daughter, I ftabbed her as the knelt for protection-fhe feized the murderous weapon from my grafp, and fhrieked aloud for pity on her youth, but with Herculian force, I threw her from me-her head struck against the tomb of De Courcy, and her brains lay fcattered o'er the white marble monument of her ancestors. Callous to every principle of humanity, I threw her body down an opening vault, and fled!! The foreft, where murmuring fteels along the filver streams of Coquet, was inhabited by a ferocious banditti. I joined the fons of rapine, and, famed for prodigality of blood, was shortly |