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R. and A. TAYLOR, Printers, Shoe Lane, London.

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Fate sits on these dark battlements, and frowns;
And, as the portals open to receive me,
Her voice, in sullen echoes through the courts,
Tells of a nameless deed.






Thus on the chill Lapponian's dreary land,
For many a long month lost in snow profound,
When Sol from Cancer sends the seasons bland,
And in their northern cave the storms hath bound;
From silent mountains, straight, with startling sound,
Torrents are hurl'd, green hills emerge, and lo,
The trees with foliage, cliffs with flowers are crown'd;

Pure rills through vales of verdure warbling go;
And wonder, love, and joy, the peasant's heart o'erflow.


SEVERAL of her succeeding days passed in suspense, for Ludovico could only learn from the soldiers that there was a prisoner in the apartment described to him by Emily, and that he was a Frenchman, whom they had taken in one of their skirmishes with a party of his countrymen. During this interval, Emily escaped the persecutions of Bertolini and Verezzi, by confining herself to her apartment; except that sometimes, in an evening, she ventured to walk in the adjoining corridor. Montoni appeared to respect his last promise, though he had profaned his first ; for to his protection only could she attribute her present repose ; and in this she was now so secure, that she did not wish to leave the castle till she

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could obtain some certainty concerning Valancourt; for which she waited, indeed, without any sacrifice of her own comfort, since no circumstance had occurred to make her escape probable.

On the fourth day, Ludovico informed her that he had hopes of being admitted to the presence of the prisoner; it being the turn of a soldier with whom he had been for some time familiar, to attend him on the following night. He was not deceived in his hope; for, under pretence of carrying in a pitcher of water, he entered the prison, though, his prudence having prevented him from telling the sentinel the real motive of his visit, he was obliged to make his conference with the prisoner a very short one.

Emily awaited the result in her own apartment, Ludovico having promised to accompany Annette to the corridor in the evening; where, after several hours impatiently counted, he arrived. Emily have ing then uttered the name of Valancourt, could articulate no more, but hesitated in trembling expectation. The chevalier would not intrust me with his name, Signora, replied Ludovico; but when I just mentioned yours, he seemed overwhelmed with joy, though he was not so much surprised as I expected.

Does he then remember me? she exclaimed.

O! it is Monsieur Valancourt, said Annette, and looked impatiently at Ludovico, who understood her look, and replied to Emily: Yes, lady, the chevalier does indeed remember you, and I am sure has a very great regard for you, and I made bold to say you had for him. He then inquired how you came to know he was in the castle, and whether

you ordered me to speak to him. The first question I could not answer, but the second I did; and then he went off into his ecstasies again. I was afraid his joy would have betrayed him to the sentinel at the door.

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