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WELL, LOOK! LOOK !"

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and haggard, she wrings her hands, tears her hair. But suddenly her anguish is at an end ; a ringing. laugh is heard ; then her face crimsons; her eyes dart fire ; her bosom heaves; listen! She speaks

"Oh! such a death that I might die;
My final gasp love's final sigh;
What time the heart has drunk its bliss,
And lips to lips still press the kiss ;
When all is known, and yet forget,
What 't is, oh, God! or what 't is not."

See how she clasps her hands in the ecstacy of delight—and now she sighs and hums a merry tune. She begins to talk rapidly :

“Oh! you would like to see my love, would you? He's here - here in my breast: but you sha’n't see him—no, you 'll take him from me, like the bad Father, won't you? Promise me then? Well, look! look !"

She bares her breast.

“ Don't you see him ? Yes, you do; wicked spirit. Yes, you do--my love is here-I'll keep him warm

“ Warm in the dew;
Warm in the rain;
Lest it pierce him thro'
And give him pain.
Warm in the snow,
Of the depths below;
Frost shall not harm,
Whom love can warm.

“I'll tell you a tale, good spirit. Come, sit you

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SO-SO-CLOSE TO ME, so.”

down here. I'll not harm you-poor Helen is not wicked. Come, then, come, dear sweet spirit—so

-SO-close-close to me, som

Well, I wander'd in the sky,
Was a bird on high;
And my wings flew afar,
To the farthest star.
What a journey was that
For the wings of a bat;
I pass'd thro' a cloud,
Like a winding shroud ;
And higher I went,
With my strength unspent;
For I went for my love,
To the regions above.
And I came to a star,
Where the angels are ;
'T was a beautiful place,
And the Land of Grace.
And I Aapp'd my wing,
And began to sing ;
For my joy was great,
At my happy fate.
Shall I tell thee why,
To that spot I'd Ay?
'T was to bring to my love
From the realms above,
As much as he'd crave
Of that land to have;
For, he said to me, love,
I'm a-seeking above
For the grace to be good!

For the grace to be good ! “Oh! I'm cold-cold-cold. When will he come ? To-night? Yes, yes, to-night, to-night.

Stand off-touch him not. Fiend ! he is my husband. Help! oh, help!”

HER SORROWS CLOSE IN DEATH.

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“Dear lady, how do you feel to-day?”

Quite well, I thank you—quite well.” “Will you not eat something ?” “ Thank you. I'm not hungry yet."

“ You need rest; will you not oblige us by going to bed? You are so kind, I'm sure you ʼll go. Will you not?”

“ Bed-bed; oh, yes. (She sings.)

« Oh! rest my spirit there
From every care;
How sweet 't will be,
If I find but thee;
If I find but thee."

The nurse led her to bed. She knelt and prayed, or seemed to pray. Suddenly she sank to the floor: she made an effort to rise, but in vain. The kind nurse helped her into bed.

She asked her how she felt: the poor patient could not reply.

She had lost her speech!

In this state she lingered about a week, rejecting all nourishment. The attempt to use force was too heart-rending to be repeated.

Her sufferings became dreadful: spasms and convulsions distorted her features: she pined, and pined, till, on the fourteenth day of her confinement, her sorrows closed in death.

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HOPE.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE SON.

MR. Devigne had been consigned to his grave. His temporal affairs had been put into the hands of those most concerned in their arrangement.

Mrs. Malcolm was preparing to return to Scotland when Leonard's letter was delivered.

How anxiously she expected an answer from her nephew ! How eagerly did she desire to see her nephew, in order to adopt him as her son, to make him the heir of all she had to bequeath, and thus console him, in some measure, for a disappointment so bitter to those who have expected a boon, without a single misgiving, and yet find their most sanguine hopes, at length, denied fulfilment.

“I will take my Leonard,” she would say to herself,—“I will take my Leonard with me, the last of our Protestant family. He will perpetuate the memory of those who preferred exile rather than betray their faith, and sin against conscience. God rewarded them with His approval. nephew shall perpetuate the name which his father

Yes, my

WHAT! DONALD AGAIN!

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has unhappily disgraced, by the cunning devices of Romish wickedness, thus seduced into the crime of perfidy. Oh! how the Evil One must deceive them, to make them see light where all is darkness—the darkness of guilt. For what craft have they not used to pervert my poor brother. His very heart's best affections they tortured to seduce his soul. Yes, I believe the woman. But she has deserved her sufferings. Those who lend themselves to deceit cannot complain if they are made the scape-goat to bear the malediction.

“When will my nephew write? He cannot be long, now. Oh, what a disappointment for the poor boy! And yet, am I not his mother? Will I not console him, and make hin forget his misfortune?

It was whilst engaged with these reflections that the two letters before given were delivered to Mrs. Malcolm.

“ At last!” she exclaimed ; “God be thanked ! my nephew is near me. I shall be no longer alone. Comfort of my old age! Pride of my heart! For he shall grow wiser and good Mercy! No,

What! Donald again! Leonard turned papist ! Oh, merciful Heaven, grant me strength! Have I lived to see the day?

“I'll go and snatch him from the gates of perdition. I'll go myself.”

no.

A flood of tears relieved her full heart; her lution was taken. But Leonard had given no address. Still she resolved to discover his abode,

reso

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