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Evening drew on-twilight fell-once more I decided on a reconnaissance, and, although Sir Cæsar was labouring hard to bring his skirmish with the Kentucky men to a close, I left him stuck fast in the cane-brake, and hurried to the tower, dearer far to me, than was that of Sestos to Leander-a young gentleman of amorous memory, who used to swim the Hellespont for the chances of a kiss.

I approached the building cautiously. I looked up, and in the haze of evening, a female form flitted past the window.

"Blessed Mary! can it be?" It must be-it could be no other than my mistress. I uttered a sentimental sigh-one so profoundly melancholy, that if overheard even by an intelligent dog, the animal would have known at once that my heart was breaking by inches. The figure remained stationary at the casement. I sang in a low voice, but with a pathos that would soften rocks,

Tell me, Mary, how to woo thee!

At the conclusion of my song, the casement was partially unclosed, and a hand waved gently its mute farewell.

"Stay," I exclaimed, "loveliest, and listen for a moment to him who adores you-Promise that I shall see that angel form again, and with one motion of your lily hand, give love's signal that I may enjoy this exquisite happiness to-morrow evening."

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"Mary!" exclaimed a voice from within.

A flourish of the hand was given-my prayer was heard and acceded the casement closed—a foot descended the staircase—and I returned to my inn to dream of love and Mary.

Oh! how interminable appeared the morrow; but evening came at last, and twilight found me pacing the front of the tower. I had penned a billet for my inamorata-ardent and impassioned-containing assurances of endless love, legally guaranteed by a lover's faith, and a soldier's hoAn hour passed-I heard a step in the basement of the towerthe door was slightly opened-I saw a form indistinctly.

nour.

"Mary!" cried a voice.

I seized the hand of the retreating virgin, pressed it rapturously to my lips, and introduced my letter, with a humble entreaty, that if my life were worth a pin's fee, she would mercifully give me an answer in the morning. The arm was withdrawn-the door closed.

"Mary! what the devil keeps you?"

She fled inside-I retreated to mine inn-found the governor in bedordered a devilled bone-drank accordingly, and sought my pillow-the redolence of Mary's hand fresh upon my lips, notwithstanding a cheroot, with two glasses of cold water and eau de vie had partially interfered with the attar of the rose.

Next morning the duties of the toilet were elaborately performed. We breakfasted-and before my honoured uncle had accomplished two miles of a night march on the banks of the Potomac, I was off to receive the promised answer to my declaration of eternal love.

On approaching the tower, an enormous ensign-a red cross on a white field-floated from a flagstaff, to which it was sadly disproportioned; indeed, at firrst sight, I fancied it was a table-cloth spread out upon a fishing rod. On the pagoda also, a union jack was hoisted-and from these

lively demonstrations I anticipated that some joyous event had occurred, or some honoured anniversary had returned. Probably, five-and-twenty years before, Mrs. Smith had surrendered her virgin hand at the altar of Hymen, or Mrs. Brown had presented the bridle-cutter with a first pledge of connubial love. But from these conjectures I was speedily diverted. A female form appeared, peeped through the curtains, kissed her hand again and again, and vanished. It was Mary-my angel Mary. My declaration was approved-my passion reciprocated-and who knew but that a year hence, the table-cloth would dangle from the pole to notify to the world that I was a happy papa, and Mrs. O'Sullivan as well as could be expected. There was rapture in the thought. I began to dream. The stout nurse showed me a smiling cherub-the doctor observed that "Mrs. O'S. was doing nicely," and I congratulated the ironmaster on being made a grandpapa, while his metallic features softened to a smile. But this reverie was broken. A smart servant-maid advanced, looked round suspiciously, dipped under a sand-bank, and then inquired, "Are you the gent. wot keeps the hatter's shop in Bold

street ?"

"Am I the devil?" was the reply.

"The Lord forbid !" ejaculated the spider-brusher; "but our cook had it from Mrs. Brown's housemaid. Well, here's a letter for you. I am afraid of being seen; but I'll return in five minutes for an answer."

I snatched my Mary's billet. No doubt the first confession of young love, conveyed with all the delicate alarm of maiden modesty. I looked at the little packet-the border was not embossed, the paper unperfumed, no seal in coloured wax, exhibiting Cupid astride upon a lion, or any of the cunning devices which young ladies commonly employ to insinuate an eternity of affection. The handwriting was that of a washerwoman, and it smelt like a fishmonger's account. What the devil could it mean? Ah! we were watched, discovered, and that man of iron, her father, had placed my Mary in durance vile, and, through some humble agency, obliged her to communicate to me her sufferings and her love.

I broke the wafer.

"DERE SIR,

"I resaved your lovin leter safe, and i would make an excuze out to meet ye this evenin, but our yong lady las night ocasioned such confuzion that the house is upside down. I'll have a Holadey next Tuesday, and will meet ye at the Peer. For the love of God, take no advantage of my innicins, your a gentleman, I'm told, and behave as sich.

"Your's to command,
"MARY DAVIS.

"N.B.-I inclos a two years Caractur, and ye'll see from that, that I'm no runagade.

"M. D.

"This is to certify that Mary Davis, plain cook-sober-obligingnow discharged-wages paid in full.'"

Saints and devils! What was all this about? I looked towards the tower—the table-cloth was flaunting from the barber's pole-and what was the confusion Miss Mary had kicked up?

"Any message for the cook," said the bearer of the epistle, popping up at my elbow.

"The cook, do I look like a cook ?"

"No, sir, they say ye're in the hatting line-"

"Damn hats and hatters. Attend to me, or I'll run mad."

"Don't for the sake of Heaven; or let us first get out of the sandbanks."

"Attend to me. What confusion did Miss Mary cause-what turned the house upside down?"

"Lord, sir, it was all so unexpected; but she had a beautiful time, and the prettiest baby ever eyes was laid on."

"Stuff-nonsense-madness! My Mary have a beautiful time, and a pretty baby! She, whose etherial figure and matchless symmetry, bore no assimilation to any thing maternal. She, than whom

"Grecian chisel ne'er did trace,

A nymph, a naiad, or a grace,
With lovelier form, or—"

"Lord, sir, I suppose you never saw young missus without a shawl-— why she was round as a beer-barrel.”

"You'll drive me desperate-what the devil Mary do you mean ?" "Miss Mary Smith as was, that married Mr. Nicholas Heavyside."

"Nicholas Heavyside!" I ejaculated. "But the thing's absurd, impossible-she whose waist an agate ring would span, round as a beerbarrel-she had no shawl-nothing but a dog, called Pompey-"

"Lawks a mercy! ye mean the missus' cousin-why she went to school last Tuesday."

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Well, before I go distracted, let me endeavour to understand ye. There's one Miss Mary Smith as was that married Mr. Nicholas Heavyside ?"

"Yes, sir?"

"And another Miss Mary-"

"Who has a black-and-white spaniel given to her by her sweetheart, Mr. Robinson, to whom she's to be married after Christmas."

"And what means these cursed pothooks and tongs, with a two years' character ?"

"That's from Mary cook-as good a fellow-servant as ever I would wish to live with-and a pretty girl, too, before she had the smallpox."

"Oh, confound the whole!" I exclaimed, crumpling Miss Davis's billet and flinging it with her two years' character in the face of the messenger. "Tell Mary Heavyside to go to Bath, and Mary Robinson may bear her company, and as to the cook-"

"That's what I want to know-for she bade me to be sure and bring back an answer."

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"She may return to the place from which all the sisterhood are sent," I exclaimed, rushing from the fatal scene, and with a blighted heart hastening to rejoin my uncle.

"I am as tired of this cursed place," observed Sir Cæsar, as he pushed the decanter across the table, "as I was formerly of Gibraltar. I remember, Harry, when I lay in-"

"Don't talk of lying-in, for the love of Heaven," I returned; "a lying-in has nearly driven me distracted. If you would save my life, let us be off at cock-crow. I'll fly with you to the back-woods-listen to the scalping story, until you're tired of it-and cross the Potomac on the raft. All I stipulate is, that we never enter a house until we ascertain that it is unafflicted with any thing answering to the name of Mary."

"Why, what the devil's in the wind, Harry? It was only last night when you were in raptures with sea-bathing and the sands."

"True, Sir Cæsar, but see what misery I have since endured. I have been taken for a hatter-my mistress has unexpectedly lain in-and instead of a billet on scented paper, written with a crow-quill, I have been annihilated with three inches of filthy foolscap, which stank like a butcher's bill, and informed me that Mary Davis was a good plain cook, and her wages had been paid." "

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We bundled off next morning, and when we topped a hill, and caught a last glance of the tower and the pagoda, I registered a vow that to the names of Smith and Brown, ad urnam, I would bestow my detestation.

A SPANISH CRIMINAL CASE.

DURING that unnatural war which a few years since drenched great part of Spain with blood, and the effects of which were but too severely felt in the city of Malaga, an extraordinary sensation was excited there by an event wholly unconnected with political or party animosities. It would be unjust to take a detached fact like that which occurred during my residence in the above-mentioned city as a standard of the morals of the inhabitants; yet it must be confessed that the accessory circumstances arising from it are of a nature to produce not the most favourable impressions of the Spanish character.

One night, in the month of October, 1838, Don José a young gentleman, belonging to one of the most respectable families in Malaga, had just left a friend's house, accompanied by a sereno, when a hired assassin, lying in wait for him, threw his cloak over the head of the sereno, and, running to Don José, plunged a knife into his body. The victim fell weltering in his blood, and instantly expired. Though the sereno, as soon as he could rid himself of the cloak, hastened in pursuit of the murderer, the latter would no doubt have escaped, had he not chanced to encounter in his flight a patrole of the military, by which he was stopped. Being taken before the captain-general, his hands yet dyed with the blood of his victim, he said that his name was Rosas, and confessed that he had been paid eight ounces of gold to commit the crime by the advocate Don Juan The police thereupon proceeded forthwith to the house of this advocate, whom they found snug in bed. Being immediately confronted with Rosas, Don Juan at first maintained, with great assurance, that he did not even know his accuser; but, when he was afterwards brought to the corpse of Don José, and the juge d'instruction required him, in proof of his innocence, to take hold of the

hand of the murdered man, and to pronounce these awful words of justification: "May my soul be eternally damned if I have any part whatever in his death!"-Don Juan could not comply without manifesting symptoms of the deepest agitation.

The further depositions of Rosas implicated a third accomplice, and this was no other than the wife of Don José. It appeared that, during the absence of the latter in Madrid, his lady had conceived a passion for Don Juan, and concerted with the latter a plan for getting rid of her husband, that she might be enabled to marry him.

Next morning, the murderer and Don Juan were conducted with great military solemnity, to the spot where the crime was perpetrated, while the juge d'instruction proceeded to the judicial examination. Rosas, a man of the most sinister and audacious aspect that I ever beheld, had his hands confined in two small wooden boxes, to prevent the removal of the stains of blood which covered them at the time of his apprehension, and a cord bound them across at the height of his neck. As for Don Juan, in the assurance of his demeanour it was easy to perceive rather the look of a man who fancies himself certain of impunity, than of one who is really innocent.

The whole city was in commotion on account of this affair, because it concerned two equally influential families, the one on account of its great wealth, the other because it belonged to the bar, which in Malaga can do all that it dares. Will they be bold enough to execute an advocate? was the question universally asked. A considerable wager was even laid on this subject by two of my acquaintance, a procurador and an officer of dragoons. The latter, who could not endure lawyers, declared not only that he believed, but that he hoped the advocate would suffer the other, from esprit de corps, insisted that matters would not be carried to such a length; alleging that, in case of capital condemnation, the captaingeneral, fearing for himself, would not permit the sentence to be executed, but be anxious to solicit the queen for a commutation of the punishment. That same morning the father of Don José called upon the captaingeneral, claiming vengeance against the murderers of his son. He was dismissed with the assurance that justice should be left to take its course. With a view to prevent either the escape of the culprits, or any attempt to tamper with the judges, the captain-general caused Rosas and Don Juan to be confined in an apartment of his own palace, and, as Malaga was at this time in a state of siege, and the military authorities assumed the whole criminal and civil jurisdiction, he moreover ordered that the six captains summoned to sit in the council of war should not be designated by lot till an hour before the assembling of the court in the convent of St. Philip.

At the time appointed for its meeting, an immense crowd filled the ancient edifice and all the approaches to it. The authorities being apprehensive lest disaffected persons might take advantage of this extraordinary assemblage to excite some new commotion, all the troops were under arms, and literally besieged the convent.

At ten o'clock at night the accused and their counsel were introduced into the hall. Rosas walked first, looking about him to the right and to the left with incredible effrontery. Next came Don Juan: his age was twenty-nine. A light-coloured moustache covered his lip, and his countenance exhibited no expression of cruelty: his dress was extremely

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