water; the depth around for the present mattered not. He remained for a few moments motionless on the rock. His name was again called; it sounded from within the cave.

"Extricating himself from the rope, he made an effort to swim; found that he had more strength than he had thought,-swam forward through the darkness up the cavern; struggled-sank-rose again heard his name called louder and nearer,-made one effort more-felt the sand, the smooth sand, under his feet,-staggered forward,―reeled, and fell, exhausted, into the arms of his wife." "And his sister?"

"The ladies were both there, sir. The cavern was about fifty feet in depth, sloping upwards towards the back, and partly filled with weeds, stones, and sand. Here Mrs. Clements and her sister had been driven to take refuge by the rising tide. They had landed from the boat on the rocks, at some distance below the cave, in the hope of finding a pathway or outlet, by which they could escape up the cliff. After a long and hopeless search, they bethought them of the boat; and, to their extreme terror, found that it had been carried away by the rising tide, which now partly covered the rocks. They had just time to climb into the cavern over the fallen rocks under the arch, when the waters sweeping in, closed up all entrance to any but a swimmer. Although the tide was fast rising, the ladies cheered each other with the hope that they should escape. Fortunately the darkness at the back of the cavern was sufficient to prevent their dis. covering the height to which the water usually rose.

"As you might imagine, Mr Clements was some time before he recovered his senses. His wife was kneeling beside him, chafing his brows, when her sister, starting up, called their attention to the rope by which he had descended. We were pulling it up; and he shook his head as it disappeared over the arch of the cavern. Well he knew how useless it would have been for them to use it. It matters not,' he said; they (meaning us) have gone to. We shall have boats here soon; we are safe-quite safe,' and so on, endeavouring to keep their spirits up, while he well knew that in the darkness the chances were that the boat would never find the cave.

"Two hours, sir,-two long hours passed on in this way, and Mr. Clements had given up all hope. The water kept rising and rising, till at last the waves broke at their feet, and each instant threatened their destruction. The ladies were almost dead with fear and cold, when a large heavy, Dutch-built boat-you don't see such now, sir,-swept, with scarcely a sound, under the arch into the cavern, her prow coming in close upon the spot where Mr. Clements and the ladies were. They did not hear her until she was within the cave; and no wonder, for the oars were muffled, and those who were in her were as silent as the grave. It was part of the cargo of a French smuggler, lying a few miles off, that her crew, assisted by some of the fishermen, were about to land, and they had taken shelter in the cavern, having been alarmed at the approach of a boat up the coast. Fortunate was it that Mr. Clements prevented the ladies from calling out for assistance from them"

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Why I should have thought at such a moment that even smug.

glers"

"Not they, sir,-not they; and Mr. Clements knew it. Desperate men like them would have left the poor things to drown, or have murdered them. No; Mr. Clements knew better. He tried a last

and a dangerous chance; but it was his only one. Listen, sir while the men had their heads turned to the opening of the cavern, watching the boat pass, the sight of which had driven them into it, he lifted the ladies gently into the end of the boat. They couldn't hear him for the noise of the waves; there was plenty of room for them, and he drew a sail over them, and was just stepping in himself after them, when one of the men turned, and he had only time to conceal himself under the bows of the boat before she was again moving silently out of the cave with, as her crew little suspected, the addition of two to their number since she had entered it.

And so

"They went about a quarter of a mile down under the cliff, and landed a boy, who disappeared like a cat up the rocks. A dead silence ensued; no one ventured to speak; the men rested on their oars, and the boat gently rose and sank on the waves. At last the silence was broken; something dark was hurled down the cliff at a short distance from the boat. It fell heavily on the rocks. God forgive him, he's tossed him over,' muttered one of the men. it was, sir. The poor man on the of the cliff; and we often hear of these There's always a reason for it, sir. cargo, when they heard a gun in the cutters. The alarm had been given. and, straining every nerve, they bore out to sea.

look-out was asleep near the top men rolling over in their sleep. They were going to land their offing from one of the King's Not a moment was to be lost;

"They were about two miles from the shore, when some of the men declared it was a lost job, and that they could go no further. Mrs. Clements was quite senseless with cold and exhaustion, but her sister listened eagerly to what the men said. They had some angry words, but the meaning of their conversation she could not understand. There was a little boat astern of the larger one, which they drew to it, and entered one by one, the last man calling out as he stepped in Now then, boys, pull for your lives; they'll make after us when they find they've lost their prize.'

"The boat had disappeared in the surrounding darkness before the terrified lady comprehended all; and then, sir, in a moment the frightful truth flashed upon her. The devils had scuttled the boat, and it was sinking fast. She said one prayer, and turned to kiss her sleeping sister, when Mr. Clements' voice sounded almost at her side! There he was, sir,-there he was in the self-same little pleasure-boat which had been the cause of all their misfortunes. He had just time to lift the ladies out of the boat, and to get clear of her, when she went down. The revenue-cutter came up, and took them on board all alive; but many months passed before Mrs. Clements recovered the events of that dreadful night."

"What became of Mr. Clements when they left him in the cave?" "He held on to the boat for a few minutes till they got outside, and then swam to the rocks, where he found his little pleasure-boat, and entering it, followed in the track of the larger vessel in time to save the life of Mrs. Clements and that of her sister. The sun is setting, sir," said the samphire gatherer, touching his hat to me. "I must be going homewards. Mayhap," he added, as he turned away on his path, "one of these days, when you are strolling on the rocks below, sir, you will look at the cavern where Mr. Clements found his wife. You can imagine much better than I can describe what must have been their feelings in such a place, and at such a time. Good evening, sir."

PORTRAIT GALLERY.-No. VII.

ADVENTURES OF THE CANNON FAMILY.

Ir was night before the cavalcading party returned to the oncefamed Bonomia, but in modern times the no less celebrated Boulogne. What could they have been about all this time in a humble cottage? Miss Molly Cannon frightened out of her life, and Lucy Cannon terrified to death; one Frenchman wounded in the head, both smitten in the heart. The fact simply was, that they were making love in the most approved and scientific manner, which we unsophisticated English should endeavour to imitate, since, by curious ancient ma. nuscripts lately discovered in Pompeii, it is clearly proved that Ovid was a native of Gascony.

The Comte des Oripeaux possessed a heart of crystal, suspended round his Byronic neck by a chain of jet-black hair, evidently appertaining to the head that had belonged to the possessor of the aforesaid heart, and from whence had also been ravished or bestowed a raven-lock.

As Molly was pretending to play with affected indifference with the dangling jewel, Des Oripeaux heaved a sigh; Molly responded; Des Oripeaux groaned; Molly hemmed; and timidly asked -unsophisticated child!—if that hair belonged to his sister? Oripeaux was silent. He drooped his head in his hands; he then grasped his throat. He seemed a prey to the pangs of upbraiding conscience; while in fact, he was merely squeezing his jugular veins, to produce a crimson suffusion in his face. An English lover who has no knowledge of anatomy, would never have hit upon such an ingenious stratagem. But here his friend, De la Blagne, who was instilling in Lucy's ear all the devoted spirit of love's distillation, perceived his embarrassment, and hastened to his relief.

"Mon ami," he said, "Miss Moli, is too subject—to bad shamevere bad shame-mauvaise honte—and his impressionabilité is vere much-ridicule-ma foi. Sometime he is quite assommant,—quite knocky me down. De fac of de mattaire is, dat dis dere mèche de che veux-dat nick of hair did belong to a vere silly, foolish, susceptible lady, one Duchesse de Gringullet; and she did one day fancy him one infidèle, and she went for to travel for distraction; till, one morning, she take one chump in de river, from de top of de Euxine Bridge -de Pont Euxine."

"The duchess—a real

"Gracious me !" exclaimed Molly Cannon. duchess drowned herself!-noyau herself in the rivière—oh, dear !" “Allons, mon ami," added De la Blagne, giving him a choke.chicken thump, which would have rectified a hunchback. "Du courage! You know you naver did loaf dat foolish duchesse, whose husband was sa retainly the most magnifique gentleman I ever saw. But, if de lady do chump into de vater for loaf, ve are no fishaman to chump aftaire. Eh, donc !-for, though one lady may be de tosle of de société--eh !—vhen she chumps in the river no gentleman likes tosté in vater. No, by Gar! dat is no champaign,--ha! ha! eh! donc!" This last ejaculation might lead one to suspect that our witty Frank was a countryman of Ovid.

And now the count raised his head, with an apoplectic-looking face, as red as a cardinal's hut, and, hitting himself a thump upon the breast, that resounded like a double drum, he exclaimed

"Miss Moli, loaf it is like de coqueluche, de hopping-cough, which can nayvare be hid; it only affecté one once in de life; and my time is to come. Je sens, I do smell dat you are mon tout, my hawl, my ev'ry ting ;" and, so saying, he ferociously tore off the love-token of former days, dashed it upon the ground, and began cutting sixes over it, like an opera-dancer expressing pantomimic despair.

The effect was amusing-quite un coup de théâtre. Molly Cannon, beholding her triumph over a drowned duchess's mortal remains, threw herself in the arms of the Frenchman; when,-such is the power of sympathy in pleasure and in pain, that, mechanically, spontaneously, combustively, and instinctively, Lucy, in a flood of tears, sought the pocket-handkerchief of her lover's bosom,-an act wl.ich La Blagne termed les délices d'un doux abandon; but which a fasti dious surly Englishman would translate the "delights of an abandoned

woman.

It was night before the young ladies recollected that it was rather late, while the gentlemen had never forgotten that they had only eaten an early dinner. The ladies would most willingly have lingered longer, for they were feasted upon oaths the most solemn, promises the most stringent, and vows the most terrific; but, the gentleinen were hungry, and talked of prudence, to secure future hours of bliss ; and of their virtuous papa, and their interesting mamma: and, as they slowly jogged back to town, their amatory vocabulary being pretty nearly exhausted, they sang together amorous nocturnes, compared to which Orpheus's strains were Grub street ballads.

Scarcely, however, had the party entered the Rue de l'Enfer, when two mustachioed Frenchmen staggered out of the billiard-room ; and in the most outrageous, unmanly, unchivalrous manner, one of them apostrophised Miss Molly Caunon in an Anglo-Gallic language, doubly rich in energy, which would have made Minerva herself hide her blushes under her shield,-language which assimilated the ladies to persons whose virtue could not be insured at any premium, even at Lloyd's. Such an unprovoked insult could not pass unpunished, and the Comte des Oripeaux rushed forward, and gave the insolent intruder a slap in the face, which-to use a French poetical and metaphorical expression-made him see all the lamps of the town twinkling in his eyes. The only reply was a furious "Sacre Dieu!" and à demain, Monsieur le Comte!" accompanied with a grasp of the hand; then another "à demain" in a terrible key, to which the Count replied with another shake of the hand; and two "à demains" in contralto intonations.

The parties separated; the ladies, terrified and trembling, leaning on their companions' arms, while these walked on in the silence of concentrated passion, until Des Oripeaux exclaimed, "Demain, I vil punish dis barbara!"

"Oh, mon hamy!" sighed Molly Cannon. baller yourself against a barber ?"

"A barber!" exclaimed the Count.

"Surely you will not

"He is no barber,-he is one général, de General Count de Gongibus. Ha! ha! Monsieur de Gongibus a barber, a friseur ! Ha ha! I vil tak a my pistolles for a curling iron. I vil skin him alive like one anguille, one eel,-to

make him papillotes. But, if de fortune de guerre, de property of war, de décret, that I shall peris for you, Moli; you shall have all my little trésors; and I hope you will vip over de cinders of your maleroo loafer -les cendres de votre malheureux amant!"

And here mutual sobbings interrupted their louder effusions until they were at the gate of the hotel. Commodus Cannon was out, having gone to take a "turn in the rooms." Mrs. Cannon, somewhat to their surprise, they found weeping over her sins and a bowl of punch á la Romaine, abjuring all reformation under the spiritual guidance of a French priest, L'Abbé Caffard, a plenipo. of the Propaganda mission; but, as Molly and Lucy cared very little whether their mother turned or returned, Unitarian, Latitudinarian, Longitudinarian, or Anything. arian, provided she did not bother them, they withdrew to their chambers, to give vent to their grief, and at the same time to ease their afflictions through the safety-valve of vanity by comparing the qualities of their lovers.

Shortly afterwards the chambermaid brought in a parcel, with the adieux of M. le Comte; which the girl could scarcely deliver from the agonized state of her feelings, as she expatiated upon all the qualifications of a beau jeune homme with a mourir si jeune, followed by an hélas! that would have done credit to any French theatrical utilité.* Molly was too much moved to examine the precious trust; a task readily undertaken by her curious sister. This was the more easily performed, as the sundry articles contained in the box were specified in an inventory, of which the untravelled reader may wish to have a translation. Here it is.

Inventory of the effects of Charles Joseph Amé des Auguste de la Vesse, Comte des Oripeaux, Officer of the Legion of Honour and of the Iron Crown, Colonel of Cavalry, &c. &c.

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"1. A book, containing the journal of my amours.

"2. A key to decipher the ladies' names therein contained.

"3. The cross of the Legion of Honour, given to me on the field of Wagram, after having broken through 14,000 cavalry with my regi

ment.

"4. A bâton, taken by me from Vellington at the victory of Vittoria, when I pared the ciaws of the British leopard with my bancal.†

5. A musket-ball extracted from my leg at Austerlitz; a musketball extracted from (blank) during the fatal retreat of Leipsic, occasioned by the misconduct of a drunken corporal.

"6. A nosegay given to me by the Queen of Prussia at Sans Souçi; and the key of the back-door of her aforesaid majesty's apart

ment.

"7. A pair of garters, given to me as a 'true lover's knot' by the aforesaid queen, they having fallen on her ancles when her calves were dispelled by grief à mon départ.

"8 A paper of poison (mort aux rats) which I fortunately took from the Polish Princess Ratowowwowsky, who was about to destroy her husband to follow me to France.

"9. The busk of her daughter, whom I carried off instead of the mother, but who was unfortunately drowned in the Bérésina.

The French call utilités all the inferior performers who are compelled to per form any character-to make themselves, in fact, generally useful. + Familiar name of the crooked cavalry sabre.