tion, the first feeling of the Countess was indignant surprise, and this was soon succeeded by alarm, when she considered her situation, the unknown character of the place, the uncertain time she might be kept, and the improbability of her servants being able to find her. The room was only lighted by the reflection of the lamp in the street, which did not enable her to discover more than that it was large and miserably furnished. Fully occupied with the doubts and conjectures that rose to her mind, she only suddenly became aware that the din of voices, the noise of footsteps in the passage-all had given place to silence. She put her hand to the door-and it was locked. With an unspeakable terror at her heart, but a strong feeling of the necessity of maintaining her presence of mind, the Countess knocked boldly with her hand, and desired to be released. No answer was returned; she went to the window, but no effort could open it; she looked into the street, and saw that all was still and quiet as the grave. None of the numerous carriages remained, not one lingering footman, to hear her summons, or obtain her release. What would be her husband's alarm, what would her servants imagine had become of her, what would be her own fate-that she could only commend into the hands of Providence. She endeavoured to persuade herself that her position in the world when known would ensure her life-that the utmost to be apprehended was the loss of a useless sum of money, and that, at all events, a quarter of an hour must bring the watchman through the deserted street, to whom, if left unmolested for that time, she could apply for succour. On turning her eyes now from the window, she found she was not the only living object in the room; there was evidently (though till now unperceived) the figure of a woman sitting in the corner, from whom the Countess heard sobs, as of a person in great affliction. She advanced towards her, and inquired the cause of her distress, with a sympathy and feeling heightened by the alarming circumstances under which she found herself. The tears of the stranger, however, continued rapidly to flow, and for many instants she heeded neither the questions nor the encouragement of Rosalie; at last she suffered the Countess to draw her hands from her face, and wipe with her own handkerchief her swollen and streaming eyes, and to the often-repeated questions as to the occasion of her grief, and the reason of her being there, she answered, she had been brought thither by the fame of Aben Hassan, and the hope of profiting by his knowledge. For the first time, her young companion now remembered why she was there herself, which the adventure she had been betrayed into had lately banished from her mind. "Well! and you are waiting for him now?" burst from the lips of the Countess with increasing interest in her fate. "Alas! alas! lady," replied the unhappy woman, relapsing into tears, "I have seen him." "Well," again demanded the other, with frightened earnestness," and it is all a cheat?" "Aye, if you are poor," answered the stranger," it is indeed a cheat; if your heart is broken, and your wants are urgent, and your means are none, you will find it a base, hollow cheat; he told me that I could not pay him; he said I was too wretched if I could." "Merciful Heaven!" exclaimed Rosalie, can he trifle so inhumanly as this. Let me hear what has brought you to this step, and believe that, if money only should be wanting to give you peace, I will pay any demand that can be made." The afflicted petitioner shook her head in despair; but again urged by the generous sympathy of her auditor, she related the following circumstances of her history. "I am the daughter of a soldier; my father and mother were rich enough to provide well for myself and sister, their only children. We were brought up in the enjoyment of every comfort, and indeed most of the refinements of life; and my mother devoted the greatest care to our education, which she was well fitted to superintend. My sister had the misfortune to be born blind, and her health being in other respects very uncertain, she depended entirely on her family for all her enjoyments. We were deeply attached to each other, and when our father and mother died, which happened one within a year of the other, her dependence on me endeared her if possible more completely. We had no near relations, but our little fortunes were ample for our wants, and would have been so till now, had not mine attracted the addresses of a man whom I then fondly believed to be actuated by more honourable motives. I loved and accepted the hand of him who has reduced me to the state in which I am. Soon convinced that my partiality had led me into a cruel deception regarding his character, my succeeding misery has been the atonement, or, at least, Month the consequence of my folly; his affection, on which at any rate I had placed the most firm reliance, I found to be a delusion. For eleven long years I suffered daily every sort of insult and persecution. My money and that of my poor sister was appropriated to cover extravagancies that he had no right to indulge in. In the midst of my trials I had as yet the consolation of my child, but he also was taken from me, and, while comparatively a baby, sent to sea. When all that could be made of service to my husband was gone, I found myself utterly deserted by him, without the means of my own subsistence, or, what was still more bitter, of hers whom I had been the innocent means of reducing to beggary. I worked for both as long as I was able, nay, not worked, I slaved! upheld by the hope of my dear child's return, who was to sustain, and reward us for all our sorrow. after month that long expected voyage has been delayed, and I have never drooped, never doubted but that it would come at last, until I heard the Victory had sunk, and saw the only relic that had been saved belonging to my child. Oh, has your life been spent in looking to one object; has your heart been twined round but one earthly hope, and borne the dearth and waste of every other joy, in cherishing that lonely promise? Lady, you are weeping for me, but you weep at the picture your kind heart has drawn; you do not know for what it is your tears are falling. I can no longer work; I see poor Rachael's sickly appetite refuse the crust I offer; I see her starved and withering lips closed against all complaint; I mark the drops gather in her sightless eyeballs; but still I cannot work. God knows in my earnest desire, but utter inability to help her, I have been led hither: I did not ask for bread to satisfy our wants; I did not ask to have the blind restored to sight-the dead brought back to life. I only craved for patience to submit, for courage to endure, for strength to work, and these have been denied me; ills, they say, like these are beyond the power of man. The tale of the poor supplicant was told; she bowed her head upon her breast, and remained absorbed in her own sorrow. The Countess Rosalie offered no interruption to the silence that ensued, not that she was insensible to the grief of her companion; not but that every impulse of her mind was to endeavour to assist and console her; but during the recital of a life of real trouble, a terrible conviction had been making its way into her heart, and now she stood oppressed by a sense of shame, too painful and too humbling to admit the expression of her compassion.. Had she likewise been brought to the house of Aben Hassan, "consumed by sorrow," had she been "holden in the cords of affliction " and " drunk up scorning like water”had she "looked for good, and found evil— waited for light and there came darkness." No. She had been lulled by the pride and insolence of prosperity into the creation of imaginary evils. The blessings and enjoyments of life had been heaped upon her as a snare, to the hardening of her soul: selfishness and discontent had been nourished with luxury, and the responsibility of wealth and happiness had exposed her to the tenfold condemnation that lay before her. The childless and deserted wife had been refused the meed of peace, that the favoured Countess came to buy! Very bitter but very just were the suggestions of conscience at that moment in the heart of Rosalie, though she had then little time to yield to them. A loud and vehement knocking at the door made the ground shake beneath their feet; roused to a remembrance of their imprisoned state, the Countess uttered a scream of joy, on hearing signs of deliverance at hand; and as the door burst open, she found herself, to her utter surprise, stretched upon her own couch, in the drawing-room in Park-lane; so bewildered with her dream that she could scarcely collect herself enough to answer the inquiry, if she would be at home to Lady Fanny Egerton. ORIGINAL VERSES BY THE LATE M. G. LEWIS, ON THE FAILURE of H. R. H. the DUCHESS OF YORK'S EFFORTS TO RECLAIM A WORTHLESS OBJECT OF HER CHARITY. THE wretch to guilt and misery flies, And royal Frederica sighs O'er gracious plans defeated; Yet think not, Princess, for yourself, (Tho' lost be that unworthy elf), Your object not completed. For long ere this, to heavenly climes, 20 THE FIRST DAY OF TERM. "HAS anybody called upon me, this morning, Mrs. Brown?" enquired Mr. Launcelot Transit, a young gentleman of fashionable exterior, as he entered the breakfast parlour of his landlady, a middle-aged person of a pursy presence and an agreeable demeanour. "Lord! no, sir!" replied Mrs. Brown, as she pounced upon the spout of the tea-urn, and gave her accustomed dip to the tea-cups -"who would think of calling upon you at this early hour, Mr. Transit ?— -no clandestine marriage on foot, eh, sir ?—he, he, he," and the landlady indulged in a lodging-house giggle. "Ha! ha!-oh! no, Mrs. Brown," and a sickly smile on the lodger's face died of a rapid decline. "I was thinking some one might have called-that's all." There was a deep and unaccountable melancholy spread over Transit's commonly vivacious visage-his usually buoyant spirits had deserted him, and, as he hummed a dolorous cavatina, he might have been compared to a grig in grief, or a cricket chirping the dead march in Saul. "And you have seen no one in the street since you rose, Mrs. Brown?" he resumed, after a pause. "That's more than I can say," answered the landlady, with a becoming reverence for truth. "I have seen three chimney-sweeps, five milkmen, several old clothesmen, an old woman with water-cresses, and I don't know how many servant girls opposite banging their mats against the street door steps-and a filthy dust they make: we shall presently have the pot-boy, I dare-say; but you look peaking this morning, my dear sir, what's the matter ?" "I had a dream last night," muttered Transit, with an odious grimace. “I dreamt I was pursued by an alligator." "An alligator, Mr. Transit; well, that was shocking what sort of an animal was that?" "It was dressed in top-boots, and had a Belcher handkerchief round its neck," said the dreamer. "Only think of that, now," cried Mrs. Brown, as she leaned her hand upon her knee, and sputtered into a laugh like a damp skyrocket. Really, Mr. Transit, you are the funniest man " faltered Transit, starting like a guilty creature—but not " sitting at a play." "I didn't hear a knock," said Mrs. Brown, "but what if there is-you are quite nonsical this morning, I declare, — but there certainly is," added the landlady, looking out of the window," a man leaning against the lamp-post, waiting for somebody, I suppose." Down went the Bohea with a splash into the lodger's saucer, while the tea-cup hung suspended from the tip of his forefinger, and a piece of dry toast stuck in his jaws like a pound of bran in the throat of Ugolino. It was to be so-Transit knew it must be So. It was the first day of term. Messrs. Stitch and Stretch had advised him that, unless certain articles manufactured of sheep's wool were paid for before that day, a certain piece of sheep's skin should be issued forth to compel such payment. It was a bailiff. "What kind of thing is it, Madam? croaked the sufferer, at length. "It's a man, sir," cried Mrs. Brown, calmly. "What height? "A short thick-set man." "What kind of eyes?" "He squints, Mr. Transit; eyes like those of a pictur-that always seem to be looking at you, and never are." "Oh, yes-they are," groaned the lodger. "A coloured handkerchief." 66 Top boots." "In its hand?" "A twisted crab-stick, with knots, like, in it." With Tarquin strides, and bent nearly double, like a master of the ceremonies with a cramp in the stomach, and with a face that rendered the similitude still stronger, did Mr. Launcelot Transit evacuate the apartment, and crawling up stairs to his bed-room, locked himself in to enjoy the pleasure of his own society. It was necessary to reconnoitre this pest of human kind; and gingerly as an ostrich from "Was not that somebody at the door," its covert, did he protrude his head from the window to watch the proceedings of the being below. The wretch was whistling a vulgar tune, and leaning on his stick with the commendable patience of an experienced adept. Never did that tune strike on the tympanum of the lodger's ear with so grating a harshness-never, surely, was human creature so positively ugly and barbarously hideous as the person at the lamp-post. Yes; it was Fang, for his face was for a moment elevated, and his ill-assorted eyes were projected on a voyage of discovery, in different directions over the exterior of the house. "Son of bailiff, I know thee now." Transit knew him of old. It was Fang; the most active of sheriff's officers. Once before had his shoulder blade been paralysed by the torpedo touch of the reptile's antennæ-once before had he been liberated from his grasp by paternal affection-once-but no more was such protection to be extended to him. Down upon the bed he sunk in an agony of doubt, amazement, and fear. But something must be done-a thought struck him, and he started from the bed. "Yes, I will call on little Dicky Spraggs, and borrow the money of him-he'll lend it me in a moment. I'm sure of it—a good little fellow that-I don't know a better fellow breathing than Dicky Spraggs-he certainly is a kind creature. But how to get out-the case was desperate, and the idea of the practicability of escape darted through his brain. Dressing himself hastily, he descended to the kitchen, and from thence deviated into the area, and crawling up the steps, after the manner of quadrupeds, brought his eye to a level with the railings. Fang seemed fastened to the lamp-post, and was at this moment whistling the beforementioned tune for the seventy-third time. But he was looking in another direction. "Soft Pity enters through an iron gate," says Shakspeare; but Fang was not soft pity, but hard cruelty; and softly, very softly, did Launcelot Transit open the iron gate, and squeezing himself through, swiftly, very swiftly, with three unnatural bounds did he clear the street, and glancing round the corner with a whisk to which lightning is mere laziness, was out of sight in a moment. "Dicky, my boy," said he, with a miserable effort at gaiety, as he entered the parlour where good little Dicky Spraggs was enshrined in all the luxury of silk dressinggown and velvet slippers; "I am come to borrow thirty pounds of you-an awkward trifle-and it must be had." "Then you have just come to the wrong shop, my Launcelot," cried the eccentric Dicky, with his accustomed irresistible humour," for the devil a mopus have I left," and he emptied the drawer of his writing desk upon the table, displaying an infinite number of broken wafers, rusty keys, and Havannah cigars-" you see how it is," and he gave a wink, and burst into what Launcelot could not but think a particularly illtimed laugh. "Well-but Spraggs," expostulated Transit, “ Dicky, my friend, you have surely other funds that you could lay your finger upon to oblige me.' " "Not a doit," answered Spraggs, whose principal employment of money at all times was to spend and not to lend; and who had settled long ago, in his own mind, that Launcelot was never to touch a farthing of his"I live at too great an expense to save money-now, these lodgings cost me three guineas a week.” "Indeed!" said the other, not heeding him. "Yes, and not much neither," resumed Spraggs, "considering what a respectable look-out in front we enjoy here.' "A good look-out, certainly," sighed Launcelot, walking to the window. Had the woe-begone Transit been shot through the brain with a ball of quicksilver, he could not have sprung with a more frantic leap from the window than he did at this instant. "What's the matter," cried Spraggs, "are you ill, my dear fellow ?" "Nothing, nothing," gasped the victim; "it will soon go off-a sudden giddiness— St. Vitus's dance-I shall be better presently." Yes, it was Fang-the indefatigable Fang, coiling round another lamp-post, and whistling another tune; and Transit's disturbed fancy depicted him in the act of climbing up the lamp-post, and stepping from its apex with outstretched hand into the parlour. "Is the look-out equally agreeable from the back of these premises?" mumbled the invalid, when he had in some small measure recovered. Equally so," cried Spraggs, with an air of consequence. "We can see the Parkfine view of the gay folks on a Sundaycharming spot." "Well, if that's the case, I'll bid you good morning, Dicky," said his friend, a sudden bridge having been thrown over the chaos of his thoughts; you are sure you can't lend me the money?" looking over his shoulder as he departed. "No-'pon honour-no," but the door was shut with a crash, and Spraggs spared any further apology. "You can't get out that way, sir,-the street door is in front," said a servant maid, as a figure was seen scrambling over the back wall. "O yes, I can," bellowed Transit (for it was he), struggling and panting; "it's the nearest way into the park," and in a moment after, the soles of his feet were upturned to the sun with strange rapidity, as he held his way over the green sward. "What's to be done now," said the distracted debtor, as he sat himself down on the grass, and drew a long breath, while the deer came up and gazed with seeming astonishment at his forlorn appearance. 66 Hang me if I don't do an impudent thing for once, and borrow the money of Miss Lavinia Lamprey -if I can. She loves me-that's certain, and must pay for the privilege. Ay, you may look, you locomotive venison," he added, with a satirical sneer, making a wry face at the deer as they bounded away from him, and starting to his feet-" but I'll get through this affair with triumph yet;" and he bent his hurried steps to Pimlico. Miss Lavinia Lamprey was fortunately at home, but unhappily, with a caprice that characterises ladies of a certain age, was just now disposed to look with aspect malign upon her lover. "My dearest Lavinia, can't stop a moment -must be off-the strangest thing-I came out for the purpose of paying some money, and left it behind me a paltry sum of thirty pounds could you—" "Sir!" interrupted Miss Lavinia, opening her mouth like an absorbing fish, and her eyes elongating till they looked like notes of admiration. "Sir! what do you mean? thirty pounds-" "My Lavinia!" cried the chap-fallen applicant," am I then deceived in you? can mercenary motives like these interfere with your love-but no matter," and he tossed himself about the sofa in a fantastic manner. Miss Lavinia smiled like an animal of the polar regions-so frozen was that smile-and then pursed up her lips-(the only purse Launcelot was doomed to behold)—but she was spared recrimination by the entrance of the servant. "Captain Trigger, Madam, is waiting below." "Captain Trigger!" fluttered Miss Lavinia Lamprey, with a blush of pleasure. "I'll wait upon him instantly; for you, sir," turning to the disconsolate Transit, "let me never see your face again; I have discovered your designs, sir-the girl will show you the door," and as she stalked from the room, a groan rent the earthly tabernacle of the debtor. The heat of the room was oppressive and intolerable-all nature seemed shorn of its beauty-Lavinia, false, cruel-a flirt-a coquette-a female curmudgeon-monstrous! The parrot swinging in its ring of wire, and prating its eternal well-learned lesson, was impertinent-it was a cruel mockery. He attempted to thrust a paper of needles down its throat, but the bird, in its wisdom, seized his little finger with his beak, and bit him till he yelled with torture. The whining and snarling of the spaniel was offensive and insulting. He was overtaken by a sudden frenzy. "Carlo, Carlo-come-come, pretty Carlo!"` The cur advanced with a snappish eagerness. A kick from the distracted insolvent sent it spinning into the variegated curled paper of the fire grate, and four strides down the staircase, and a leap into the street, and Transit left his Lavinia for ever! As he turned out of Buckingham Gate, who is it that confronts, and, with extended hand, would fain lay hold upon him? It is Fang, the ubiquitous, the ever-present Fang. It was instinct in convulsions, not premeditation, that prompted him to direct a blow at the stomach of the Bailiff; it was the same impulse that urged him to ply his legs towards Spring Gardens, and to leave the discomfited Fang rolling over and over in the stones intended for the new palace. "And now I feel it's all up with me," said Transit mournfully, as he gazed down the long vista of the Strand, "I cannot struggle against my fate. I have no other resource,— yes- one; I'll go down to my uncle, and get the money out of him in anticipation of my next remittance from my father; he's a very respectable good sort of man, that uncle of mine; he certainly has been a good friend to me:" and uttering these fond sayings, wherewith sanguine but despairing men are prone to propitiate fortune and their friends beforehand, he found himself at his uncle's door. 66 My dear uncle," said Transit, as he was. ushered into the room where "An elderly gentleman sat On the top of whose head was a wig-" "I am come upon one of the most important affairs in life. I want money-thirty pounds to be paid out of my half yearly remittance payable next month." |