voice was ever sweet music, and whose brow was ever placid— Annette, who had no anxiety for that future in which her brother vainly sought to see and brighten the picture of her fate. Were he alone, he might go abroad, and with his own arm retrieve his fortunes, and find honour in life and death! but not for worlds would he leave her, that prisoned bird, whose heart was twined with his in infancy, and year by year clung more closely and fondly in the holy strength of a sister's love. Yet would that coming years might divide their weal and wo; would that he could suffer alone; and in the deep passion of his soul, he believed it might be, for he felt a blight stealing over his own existence, and he would not think that it was all in vain. The lamp was expiring, and the grey morning began to color the east, before Kriesler threw himself on his couch. The fatigues of the previous day, the strong mental excitement produced by the succeeding thoughts, affected his nervous temperament to the last degree of excessive action, preventing all drowsiness, until, completely exhausted, he sunk into a heavy but troubled slumber. He was wandering with Annette along shady walks, and gathering flowers, as in early childhood: and the trees, and sunshine, all wore that strange and passing enchantment, that they wear to the young gazer, which is one of the soul's and nature's mysteries; and thought of in after years, the heart can only describe it to itself, as the passing of a veil which covered them; some rosy and charmed medium, through which they were seen once, but seen no more. For in those holy and blessed years, there is a fountain deep in the soul's wilderness of flowers, and manna is strewn around its sweet waters; and while the heart is pure and happy, it drinks and eats food of angels; but when it passes on, and the world's rough contact has brushed the down from its dove-like wings, and storms of sorrow have shadowed the earth beneath its gaze; then is the fountain dried, and the manna ceases, and its portion ever after is with the unmingled realities of life. It may go forth, and find glory and power: yet, looking back to that garden to which it may never return, its own testimony will most surely be, that all would be gladly given, to live again as in those unhonoured, blessed years. He dreamed of those early days, and their beautiful enchantment, when suddenly the sky was darkened, and the waters seemed far off and gloomy; he saw that the first was delusion, and childhood's slumber, that years break gradually, was broken in an instant. He started, and the dream was changed, though the dreamer did not awake. He was weary, and resting on that self-same couch; and his mother, that one remembered and sainted image, entered and sat near him. He watched and expected Annette, but she did not come. Then his mother talked long and earnestly, but he was drowsy, and the tones sounded like distant waters; and presently he heard another voice. It was soft and low; it was not singing, yet more musical than speaking, and a sort of cadence seemed to linger, on the air, like the tones of music, when its material nature has passed away. He distinguished these words, "She is dead!-she is dead!" and they were breathed out more softly and sweetly than human voice ever spoke. Then he was chasing the red deer along paths that he followed yesterday; and often the creature turned and gazed at him with its dark, sad eyes, when the dogs sprang toward it and drove it onward; and it would turn again and again, and look so piteously, that the hunter's heart trembled, and his arm was powerless; then hounds and game were out of sight; yet he saw in a thicket the same large full melancholy eyes, and he heard a voice of strange sweet music-and with a shudder he awoke ! A light tap at the door broke a long and troubled train of thought, if such might be called the incoherent images that chased each other through his infancy. It seemed like a painful dream, of which he was conscious, yet without the power of breaking it. Starting up, he opened the door; and Annette. with a sweet smile, bade him come to dinner, for he had slept so soundly, that it was in vain he had been summoned to breakfast. "Oh yes, certainly !" cried he; " you should have called me before; I must hunt to-day.' "To-day?" said Annette, "why, you went yesterday; be sides 66 Oh, not yesterday; to-day I go; what has mother Alice for dinner, since I have shot nothing for so long?" Annette approached him anxiously, and enquired if he had slept well. "Well? oh yes!-slept, did you say? Annette"—and his voice fell to a low whisper-" some one told me that you were dead! It is false !-thank God, it is false !"—and he grasped her hand. That touch thrilled to her heart, for it was cold as the touch of the dead; yet her face was flushed, and his eyes burned with a strange and unwonted lustre. THE wind sighed mournfully among the old turrets of the cas→ tle; and ever and anon it sent such wild and mournful echoes from the forest below, it was as if the spirits of its dark sanctuary were abroad, and whispering their indistinct and incomprehensible sentences; yet sometimes swelling out more clearly, till the gust seemed to bring some spell-word of their mysteries. Often it was like the distant ocean, and coming nearer and louder, with the sounds of a sudden and destroying torrent, and mingled with the crash of trees, and the wail of the drowning. The serf shuddered in his cot, as the wild uproar came to his very door, and said: "The evil genii of the mountains have left their caves this night, and are come to destroy us! The wind eddied round old trees, and uprooted them, and bore their branches onward, as by some unearthly power: and the whole forest bent, even as eastern travellers before the simoon of the desert. It was not total darkness; pale gray clouds overspread the skies, and threw a dim light across the scene; and the benighted peasant, who looked toward the castle, and saw its changing shadows as the clouds swept along the heavens, and marked the light in its western tower, and the form that sometimes passed before its casement, turned from it and fied: for superstition had invested it with mystery, and its inmates, so secluded, so separated from human intercourse, were supposed to hold companionship with powers of other spheres. Very different was the scene in the castle that night, from any thus imagined. In that western tower, and still surrounded by the tomes of "varied lore," lay the pale and sleeping student, while near him sat his sister, still paler from many days and nights of anxious watching; for seldom had she left that melancholy chamber since the first morning of her brother's illness: and to cool his feverish hands, and sooth his wild fancies, and in moments of distincter recollection, cheer and amuse him, was the sad yet sought and unremitted task of the gentle sister. Annette had, a few hours previously, insisted that Alice should retire to rest, and she watched alone by her brother listening in awe and silence to the ceaseless war without. For a moment there was a deep and fearful pause, as if the powers of the air were gathering their energies; and again the blast came fiercely, till the towers trembled, and an old parapet was torn away; its fall shook the castle as an earthquake, and its noise was like rolling thunder, as it passed downward among the ivied terraces and battlements. Starting from his sleep, Kriesler was in an instant by the window; and Annette crept beside him. His arm was stretched toward the forest, his eye kindled, and his lip quivered, and he exclaimed: "Spirits of yon misty darkness, ye come! ye come! Like the divine soul, crushed and chained in its vile prison of flesh, so is your glory dim this night, for ye have left your bright free home, and your way is through the thick atmosphere of earth. I see ye speeding along yon forest tops, and beautifully do they bend to your footsteps, and the rushing sound of your train is music! I have waited and watched-at last ye come!" My brother!" said the trembling Annette; and instantly that wild and sublime tone and gesture sank to the utmost gentleness, and turning toward her he said: : "My sister, the work is done that I have laboured for years to do. Dost thou know what it is, Annette? I did not tell thee till I was assured of success; and thou hast marvelled to see me plodding through all yon mystic pages. Now listen, dear sister I knew that in their mysteries was a fount of wisdom, whereof the patient searcher should drink, and whose waters have power the world wots not of, to control and rule it, and bend it like a slave to his will. And now, Annette, that it is done, and the mine of earthly treasures is opened for thee and me to choose, I will tell thee how I have toiled, and suffered, to gain it; how I have striven, till my very heart seemed worn away in its own ceaseless exertions. Weep not, dear sister; it is all over now, and it should not be sad but pleasant to recall those days, since they have brought such stories of happiness. It was for thee, my sister, that I sought them; and day and night a beautiful vision haunted me, and drew me on, on to its accomplishment; for it was to dissipate the clouds that gathered around future years, and make all thy life blessed, and bright, and rich with the ancient power and splendour of our house. And if those days had suffering, it was when their toil seemed in vain, and I thought of thee, so lone, so separated from the world, even now, when all its gifts of pleasure should be around thee, and it should be thy happy home. But the power is won, and the secret, and we shall be most happy. To-morrow-to-morrow He flung himself on the bed; and as Annette bent beside him, he pressed her cold hand to his feverish forehead and fell into a profound sleep. But not thus did that wandering yet pure and noble spirit depart. As some spark that seems smothered in ashes, burns out with the splendour of its intrinsic element, ere it dies, so did it return to the holiness of its nature, and the last hours of the student were peaceful, and his spirit passed humbly and trustingly to the presence of its God. And does any ask where is Annette? Ask where is the streamlet, when summer heats have dried up its fountain; ask where is the spring flower, when the frosts of winter have returned in May; ask where is the singing bird, when the icy storm has passed over its nest. In joy arrayed; And then death comes, and where, fair thing! are ye! 1301 MALCOLM DEVEREUX, OR PASSAGES FROM THE LIFE OF A DREAMER. (Concluded from page 222.) I HAD not remained long in this mood, when I heard the door of the room gently opened. I turned my head to see what inhabitant of this enchanted palace should appear; whether page in green, a hideous dwarf, or haggard fairy. It was my own man Andrew. He advanced with cautious step, and was delighted, as he said, to find me so much myself again. My first questions were as to where I was, and how I came there? Andrew told me a long story of his having been fishing in a boat, at the time of my hare-brained cruise; of his noticing |