officers of the corps, and consisting all of three or four rooms on each end, with a piazza on the side toward the sea, extending the whole length of the structure, and forming a shaded and agreeable promenade during the earlier part of the day. The rooms opened upon the piazza, and communicated with each other by means of a side door, which was occasionally left open for the freer circulation of air.

In one of these barracks were quartered three officers of the regiment, Major Hamilton, Captain Gordon, and a third whose name I cannot at this moment recall. Major Hamilton's apartment was in the centre. He had lost a leg in the service, and usually wore a wooden pin, or stick, shod with iron; and being an alert man, fond of exercise, used to walk up and down this piazza for hours together, stopping occasionally at Gordon's door or window, and sometimes looking in at that of the other officer, exchanging a cheerful word with them as they sat each in his apartment, endeavoring to beguile the time with dressing, reading, writing, thoughts of promotion, of home, and of a speedy and happy return to Britain.

The sound of the Major's step was peculiar. It was only the blow given by the iron ferule at the end of his wooden leg that was heard; for, although a stout man, he trod lightly with the remaining foot, and heavily only with the wooden substitute, which gave forth its note at short intervals, as he paced to and fro, so regularly, that there was a certain pleasure in listening to it.

Sounds that strike the ear in this measured way, affect us more than others. The attention becomes engaged, and they grow emphatic as we listen. The calker's hammer-stroke, as it flies from the dock-yard of the busy port, across some placid bay, into the green and peaceful country, is an instance of this truth; the songster has it, in the line,

'His very step hath music in 't,
When he comes up the stairs;'

and the gentle LAMB felt it, when he said of his physician, that 'there was healing in the creak of his shoes,' as he approached his apartment. Associated with this measured movement of the Major, was his deep cheery voice, that made light of danger and difficulty; whether on the field of battle, or as now amid the sickness, which, in mockery of the beauty of tropical skies and scenery, was devastating the colony at this melancholy period.

This sickness proved fatal to several officers of the regiment, and after some time, Major Hamilton was taken down with it. It was a fever, attended with delirium. The Major was confident of recovery; and indeed, from the great equanimity and happy temperament of his patient, his physician had hopes almost to the last. These, however, were not destined to be realized. He expired the seventh day after he was seized, while endeavoring to speak to his friend Captain Gordon, and was buried under arms at sunset of the same day.

Now it was on the second night after this mournful event, that Gordon, having retired to bed rather later than usual, found himself unexpectedly awake. He was not conscious of any distressing thought or dream, which should have occasioned this shortened slumber, and as

he commonly made but one nap of the night, and his rest had been latterly broken by the kind offices he had rendered his comrade, he was half surprised at finding himself awake. He touched his repeater, and found it only past one o'clock. He turned on the other side, and composed himself afresh. Thoughts of his friend came over his heart, as his cheek reached the pillow, and he said: 'Poor Hamilton! Well, God have mercy upon us!'

He felt at the moment that some one near him said 'Amen!' with much solemnity. He was effectually roused, and asked, Who is there?'

There was no reply. His voice seemed to echo into Hamilton's late apartment, and he then remembered that the door was open that communicated between the two rooms. He listened intently, but heard nothing save the beating of his own heart. He said to himself, It is all mere imagination,' and again endeavored to compose himself, and think of something else. He laid his head once more upon the pillow, and then he distinctly heard, for the first time, the Major's well-known step. It was not a matter to be mistaken about. The ferule sound, the pause for the foot, the sound again, measured in its return, as if all were again in life. He heard it first upon the piazza, heard it approach, pass through the door from the piazza into the centre apartment, and there it seemed to pause; as if the figure of the departed were standing on the other side of that open door, in the room it had so lately occupied.

Gordon rose. He went to the window that opened upon the piazza, and looked out. The night was very beautiful; the moon had gone down; the sky was of the deepest azure, and the low dash of the waves upon the rocks, at the foot of the bluff, was the only thing that engaged his notice, except the extreme brightness and lucidity of a solitary star, that traced its glittering pathway of light toward him, across the distant waters of the ocean. All else was still and reposeful. It is very remarkable!' said he; 'I could have sworn I heard it!' He turned toward the door that stood open between the two rooms. The Major's apartment was darkened by the shutters being closed, and he could distinguish nothing inside it. He wished the door were shut, but felt a repugnance at the idea of closing it; and while he stood gazing into the dark room, the thought of being in the presence of a disembodied spirit rose in his mind; and though a brave man, he could not immediately control the bristling sensation of terror that began to possess him. He longed for the voice of any living being; and though for a moment the idea of ridicule deterred him, he determined on calling up the officer who occupied the other apartment.

He passed out on to the piazza, and as he approached the other extremity of the building, the sentinel on duty perceiving him, presented arms.

Have you been long stationed here?' said Captain Gordon. 'Half an hour,' was the reply.

'Did you did you happen to see any one on the piazza, during that time?'

'I did not.'

Gordon returned at once to his room, vexed with himself for having

been the sport of an illusion of his own brain. He closed his door and window, and went to bed. He was now thoroughly awake, and had regained, as he thought, entire possession of his faculties. My old comrade,' said he, 'what could he possibly want of me? We were always friends kind-hearted, gallant fellow that he was! No man ever was his enemy, except upon the field itself. Why should I have dreaded to meet him, even if such an event could possibly be?' And yet, so constituted are we, that a moment or two after this course of thought had occupied his mind, he was almost paralyzed with dread, by the recurrence of the some well-known step that now seemed pacing the dark and tenantless apartment. He even fancied an irregularity in it, that betokened, as he thought, some distress of mind; and all that he had ever heard of spirits revisiting the scenes of their mortal existence, to expiate some hidden crime, entered his imagination, and combined to make his situation awful and appalling. It was therefore with great earnestness that he exclaimed:

'In the name of GOD, Hamilton, is that you?'

A voice, from the threshold of the communicating door, addressed him in tones that sank deeply into his soul:

'Gordon, listen, but do not speak to me. In ten days you will apply for a furlough; it will not be granted to you. You will renew the application in three weeks, and then it will be successful. Stay no longer in Scotland than may be necessary for the adjustment of your affairs. Go to London. Take lodgings at No.-, Jermynstreet. You will be shown into an apartment looking into a garden. Remove the panel from above the chimney-piece, and you will there find papers which establish the fact of my marriage, and will give you the address of my wife and son. Hasten, for they are in deep distress, and these papers will establish their rights. Do not forget me!'

Captain Gordon did not recollect how long he remained in the posture in which he had listened to the spirit of his departed friend; but when he arose, it was broad day. He dressed himself, and went to town; drew up a statement of the affair, and authenticated it by his oath. He had had no intention of quitting the colony during that year; but an arrival brought intelligence of the death of his father, and of his accession to a large estate. Within the ten days, he applied for a furlough; but such had been the mortality among the officers, that the commanding officer thought proper to refuse his request. Another arrival having however brought to the island a reinforcement for the garrison, he found the difficulty removed, upon a second application, in three weeks. He sailed for Scotland, arranged his affairs, and intended immediately afterward to have proceeded to London. He suffered, however, one agreeable engagement after another to retard his departure, and his friend's concerns, and the preternatural visit that he had received from him, were no longer impressed so vividly as at first upon his mind.

One night, however, after a social party of pleasure, he awoke without apparent cause, as he had done on the eventful night in Dominica, and to his utter consternation, the sound of the Major's iron step filled his ears.

He started from his bed immediately, rang up his servant, ordered post-horses, and lost not a moment upon the way, until he reached

the house in Jermyn-street. He found the papers as he had expected. He relieved the widow and orphan of his unhappy friend, and established them as such in the inheritance to which they were entitled by his sudden death; and the story reaching the ears of royalty, the young Hamilton was patronized by the Queen of England, and early obtained a commission in the army, to which he was attached, at the time this tale was told to me.

It is also known that Captain Gordon rose very high in his military career, and was throughout his life distinguished as a brave and honorable officer, and a fortunate general. JOHN WATERS.

THE CITY BY THE SEA.

'My forefathers' ashes repose by the waters of the Illissus; my home is of Neapolis; but my heart, as my lineage, is Athenian.'

CROWNED with the hoar of centuries,

There, by the eternal sea,

High on her misty cape she sits,
Like an eagle! fearless, free!

And thus in olden time she sat,
On our morn of long ago;
'Mid the roar of freedom's armament,
And the war-bolts of her foe.

Old Time hath reared her pillar'd walls,
Her domes and turrets high;

With her hundred tall and tapering spires,
All flashing to the sky.

Shall I not sing of thee, beloved!

My beautiful! my pride!

LAST DAYS OF POMPEII.

Where thou towerest in thy queenly grace,

By the tributary tide?

THE CAPTAIN'S WIFE.

BY GRACE GRAFTON.

AMONG the myriads of steam-boats that sailed on the western waters, plying between Louisville and New-Orleans, was one large and splendid vessel, which invariably carried more passengers, especially lady-passengers, than any of her numerous competitors for the patronage of the public.

The Lord of the Isles,' as this noble boat was called, had excellent accommodations; fine state-rooms, beautiful cabins, pretty carpets, elegant hangings, large mirrors, and all those attractive embellishments that win the eyes of the fair. Yet in all these arrangements, the Lord of the Isles' was not superior to other vessels of her class. Then wherefore did she attract such bevies of beautiful passengers? The owners gave thanks to her commander, and he was a fine looking fellow, and one of the pleasantest men in the world; always had a healthy color on his sun-burnt cheeks, and a good-humored sparkle in his dark gray eyes; nor was an oath ever heard to escape his handsome, good-natured mouth. He kept an admirable table, according to the taste of the west, and was moreover a widower, and was allowed to be a universal favorite, from the senator's lady who honored the Lord of the Isles' with her portly presence, down to the poor white chambermaid, whose husband had run away, and left her to what she alas! felt to be the degradation of earning an honest livelihood, by being civil to her superiors. She flounced her dresses, and screwed her thin, wiry hair into every fashionable twist of which it was capable, and looked sadly above her station; but civil, very civil, she had to be, or she would not have sailed twice on board the Lord of the Isles.'

Now this boat had been laid up for a season at low water; but when the freshets came down, she was up for New-Orleans again, and as usual, freight poured in, and her berths were all engaged. She was on the eve of departure, and among several ladies who came on board over night, the captain himself was observed to show one lady in, and hand her to the ladies' cabin, while the tall chambermaid followed, carrying a band-box, and leading a child. There was nothing singular in this; but it did seem strange, when this lady might have selected the best berth on board, to see her establish herself in a state-room that was quite objectionable.

'I hardly think you will like this state-room, ma'am,' said the chambermaid, turning up her nose, and pointing to a door in the vicinity; 'it is so near I could show you to one more forward, that is

not positively engaged.'

'Never mind, Mrs. Tompkins; thank you; it will do very well for me,' said the lady, smiling: if you will be so good as to hand me that carpet-bag, and the small trunk from the ladies' cabin.'

She is a pretty, pleasant creature, after all,' thought the chambermaid. 'Mrs. Tompkins,' too, instead of 'Betsey, Betsey!' 'Chamber