soon followed him. The preliminaries were speedily arranged, the ground measured, the pistols loaded, and it fell to De Launay's lot to fire first. Edgar, with a cigar, in his mouth, looked composedly at the muzzle of the pistol which was levelled at him ten paces off. De Launay fired, and missed him. Wolfsberg's skill was universally known; he never failed to snuff out a candle at fifty paces distance; therefore when he fired, and that his ball merely grazed De Launay's hat, Felstadt, who was ignorant of his determination not to wound his adversary, looked at him with astonishment.

"It is your turn, sir," said Wolfsberg, slightly bowing to De Launay.

De Launay deliberately took aim, and this time with fatal effect. Scarcely had the detonation been heard, when he beheld Edgar stretched upon the ground. He rushed forward and assisted in raising him, but the ball had entered Wolfsberg's heart, and he gave no signs of life.

You had better get to the frontier without loss of time," said the surgeon; "the wound is a mortal one."

While assisting to unbutton Edgar's uniform, De Launay perceived, something in his bosom which he contrived to possess himself of while the wound was being examined. It was a pocket handkerchief edged with lace, in one corner of which was embroidered the name of "Matilda," surmounted by a Countess's coronet.

It was settled that Gustave de Launay should take his second's horse, and make the best of his way to F, from whence he could take post to the frontier: and in ten minutes after the catastrophe he was on the road thither. Schloss Linsdorf lay just half way between M and F; a sentiment of curiosity impelled Gustave to seek an interview with Matilda; he wished to restore her handkerchief to her and to find out whether it had fallen into Edgar's possession by chance, or by some unworthy trick. In less than an hour after quitting M he was at Linsdorf and in the presence of his friend. "Have you any orders for Paris?" he said. "I shall be there in two days."

Then, after having explained to Matilda that urgent business recalled him to France, Gustave drew the handkerchief from his pocket, and showing it to her asked, "Is this handkerchief yours?"

Pale and trembling at the sight of it, she answered that it was. "Did you give it to any one?" he pursued, almost fearing to hear her answer.

Matilda looked steadfastly at him, and an almost imperceptible "Yes," escaped from her lips.

De Launay placed the handkerchief in her hand without adding another word. Madame Von Linsdorf divined all that was passing in his mind, but no blush pervaded her blanched cheeks; a feeling far different from that of shame was freezing her heart.

"Did he give it to you?" she asked, seizing the handkerchief. "I took it from him!" was the reply.

Matilda started from her chair. This answer, joined to the precipitate departure of Gustave from M——, aroused a dreadful suspicion in her mind. She unfolded the handkerchief, and perceiving some spots of blood upon it, rushed towards De Launay, and grasped his arm, while a convulsive tremour shook her whole frame.

"Gustave," said she, with almost superhuman energy, I would not curse you- -Tell me, then, that you have not killed him!" "I have saved your honour! he replied.

"

At these words Matilda fell senseless at his feet.

As soon as Gustave had placed her in the hands of her women, he remounted his horse, and, with feelings that can scarcely be described, proceeded to the frontier.

When the General returned to Linsdorf some days afterwards, he was struck by the melancholy faces of his servants. Where is the Countess?" he inquired of Matilda's maid. "Is she ill?"

"Ah, sir!-my poor lady!" was all that she could articulate in the midst of her sobs.

Astonished and alarmed, he hurried to his wife's chamber. Matilda was seated at the open window; the last rays of the setting sun fell like a glory round her head, and threw a golden gleam over the long masses of dark dishevelled hair that, streaming over her shoulders, swept the ground. Her back was turned to her husband, who, as he entered, pronounced her name; but receiving no answer, he drew near, and observed her attentively. Her eyes were fixed upon a white handkerchief which she held in her hand, and upon which were perceptible some spots of blood, already dried and discoloured. General laid his hand gently upon his wife's shoulder.

"Matilda," he asked, "do you not know me?"

The

She turned round, and raising her husband's hand to her lips, said with a strange vacant smile; " Guten tag, Vielliebchen!"

BROKEN VOWS.

THERE be dreams which fade and perish
Ere the morning light appear;

There be visions which we cherish
More than truth for many a year.

Such were mine in days long vanish'd,
By enamoured fancy wrought,

Ere a graver wisdom banish'd

Youth's delusions from my thoughts.

Up among the breezy mountains

All a summer's day we strayed,

Where a thousand murmuring fountains
Scattered coolness through the glade.
Woe is me for vows there plighted
'Neath the ancient chestnut trees,

Words of love for ever slighted,

Hopes more fleeting than the breeze.

Yet, as memory fain will wander

Back along the path of years,

Still the fairy scene I ponder,

Finding sweetness e'en in tears.

In her magic glass beholding

AUTHOR OF STORIES OF WATERLOO," "MY LIFE," ETC.

CHAPTER II.

A Lady's Letter.-Matrimonial movements, in effecting which the Priest turns up a Trump.-Mr. Rafferty, the Younger, prepares to start for the Modern Babylon. He receives excellent advice, and departs under a shower of brogues and blessings.

WITHOUT delay, we will give the fair one's epistle as indited, with the running commentary that accompanied each paragraph, as Father Anthony read the same

"SIR

"DEAR I might have prefixed, had not maiden delicacy forbade it." "That's a beautiful beginning any how," said Mr. Rafferty. "A brief explanation of the motives which have influenced my conduct will best extenuate it, should that be necessary."

"That's coming to business, Father Anthony, without any rigmarole."

The absence of my beloved father—" "So-she has a father."

"And, Mr. Rafferty, did ye ever know any Christian woman that wanted one?" said the priest. "Can't ye keep listening, like a dacent Catholic, till I have finished. Where the divil-God pardon us!-did I lave off?"

"At a beloved father,'" said the Lord of Castle Rafferty, "like a corrected school-boy, who has been flagellated for a recent bruillerie."

"The absence of my beloved father, who has been obliged to visit his West India estates, to nominate a new agent, the last having broken trust and-"

"Go on, Anthony; but first let me make a tumbler for you and another for myself, and if there's murder in the next page I'll not trouble ye with a pig's whisper."

In "Hamlet" the player queen promises too much, and so did the proprietor of Castle Rafferty.

"Confided to the custody of a treacherous guardian by my idolized and absent parent, the trust has been grossly violated—”

"Och! murder!" exclaimed the old gentleman; "the creature has got a blast."

Upon my conscience!" and the churchman laid down the letter in alarm, "I'm sorely apprehensive that she's a little damaged in her reputation. But stop till we know the worst," and he read on accordingly.

"This fiend in human form, to whom a too-confiding father thus unhappily entrusted me—in his eyes the most precious charge on earth,

is class-leader in a Conventicle, and wants to marry me to a preacher, blind of the left eye, and ugly as original sin-and also make over my paltry pocket-money-five poor thousands in the Four per Cents., -to endow a chapel, and export to New Zealand a cargo of Watts' Hymns."

The priest laid down the letter and elevated his eyes to the ceiling, while my father swore roundly (and Father Anthony did not rebuke the outburst), that the guardian aforesaid should be hanged -and also, that the one-eyed abuser of his satanic majesty, namely, the preacher-should be committed, as a rogue and vagabond, to the house of correction.

The remainder of the lady's letter can be easily compressed. To Dick's proposal she answered "Done!" She had two protectors, now, her father, engaged at present in rummaging for gold-dust; and her lover, awaiting her decision with the painful anxiety of a culprit who pleads guilty, as he eyes any suspicious movement of the judge's finger towards the cushion before him, underneath which, as he knows from Old Bailey experience, the black cap is generally deposited. Amelia waived idle ceremony, and came like a brick to the scratch. Bred an orthodox episcopalian, she was ready to renounce methodism, and all that aided and abetted it. Connemara was nearer than California. The sooner she was in security the better -and the trifle in the Four per Cents.-her hand and person included-like a note payable on demand, were ready for Mr. Rafferty for claiming of them.

"The sooner Dick starts the better," said the priest. "I'll take the bull by the horn, and see if I can't knock the fear of God into the heart of that miserable old malefactor, that, to your disgrace, is but four akin. Think of him, the antiquated sinner, offering a light shilling only last week, to take his own Cousin German, by the mother's side, out of purgatory-and he, as the ould villin knew well the loosest lad that ever the parish produced. But I'll not part him chape, and if the ould lady will get Dick's linen put together, and you will drink asy, and comfort yourself with an air upon the pipes, I'll do my best, and see if the Virgin-glory to her for a real gentlewoman!-won't stick to us, as she has done, at many a stiff pinch before."

It was late the next day before his reverence returned, for he had lost the best end of the preceding evening, before he could bring the miser to the point. But he did succeed. The skinflint forked out thirty pounds-but the gompeeine he exacted was known only to himself and to the loan contractor. The old gentleman was to pass his note; the priest agreed to be security; and as many of the tenants were to join the twain, as could find room for a name or their X upon the back of the bill.

In three days, Dick was ready for the road, and set out by times, to catch the coach at Cloghnageerah. Prayers were offered for him in the chapel after second mass; and as he trotted towards the coach-road, there wasn't an old shoe within the parish that was not pelted after him for luck. The priest undertook to see him off, for, the old gentleman being a quarter behind-hand with the hushmoney, was mortally afraid to meet the sheriff, and kept snug and warm in the house.

“Dick avour neeine!" said Father Anthony, " fortune's before ye

like a wheel-barrow-and the ball is at ye'r toe, if you can but manage to give it the right kick. When ye arrive in foreign parts take things fair and 'asy-and don't, at the first word, off with the coat to every divel that wants to fight ye. Don't be late out in the streets upon the batter-nor ware ye'r boots out dancin' at every cake, or in skrimagin over the wide world after every woman ye run against, because she wears a fliskmahoy ribbon in her bonnet and has jimkin bobs in her ears, that are, may be, only gilt after all. Don't, when ye'r in for a heavy drink, sit with your back to the fire; and keep two things close shut-your pocket and your mouth. Write down all that happens ye, and ye can now and then get a frank, or send it by some friendly boy who has been in London for a spree, or out of the way of trouble for being over civil to a neighbour's daughter, and is waitin' till he hears from home that the match-money is made up. And now, up with ye on the rooffor I see the devil, Phil Maguire, has boulted his cropper at the counter, and is drawin' his cuff across his mouth. Be sure ye mind y'er duty like a raal Catholic, and niver miss mass when ye can help it.

The coach is going, and now, Dick, astore,* remember ye'r clergy's words, and God bless ye, if it be possible."

Mr. Maguire touched the off-leader with the silk-the helpers pulled away the horse-cloths-a shower of blessings and old brogues were discharged as the coach started-one of the latter unsettling, from over-zeal and mal-direction, the back tooth of an English traveller.

"Won't I be proud of ye in a month or two," and his reverence gave a wink, which, like the shake of Lord Burleigh's head in the play, conveyed an infinity of meaning.

Poor Father Anthony! Before half the allotted space, the story of his pupil had concluded for, like the history of a fox-hunter, Dick's career had been short, sharp, and decisive. To honour its wind-up, however, no public demonstration at Castle Rafferty was made, and at chapel, neither

The bells were rung,

Nor the mass was sung.

But why and wherefore this occurred, the reader will discover after he shall have read the next chapter, which we venture to assure him shall be found rather short, very pleasant, and uncommonly instructive.

CHAPTER III.

Penmanship and Orthoepy, - Departures from both, professional and polite. Opening occurrences of the Journey, as detailed by Mr. Ignatius O'Boyl.Dick Rafferty finds favour with a Coroner's Jury.-Crosses the Channel, and opens the Hymeneal campaign.-Letters from London.-What happened at the Sign of the Lady without a Head.-A change of Quarters for the worse.— Julia goes to Newgate, and Dick enlists.-Both ordered on Foreign Service, and also in the same vessel.-The Lady proceeds on a Cruise, and Mr. Rafferty returns to Connemara.-Luck's everything, and Virtue is rewarded in the long run.—A bad start does not always lose a race, and Dick comes in a winner.

IT has been commonly remarked, that attention to caligraphy is not considered an essential either by the great or learned. Indeed, it would appear that they rather prided themselves in running into

* Astore-Anglicè, darling.