CHAPTER X.

NEVER did the flight of two persons create more consternation. The council was called together in haste. The king's terror was extreme. Menaces, oaths, appeals and entreaties followed each. other from his lips in rapid succession. Couriers were dispatched one after the other to the different seaports as fast as horses could bear them. The admiral was ordered to put all his ships that were in readiness out to sea, and the superscription to the letters bearing the instructions, bore also the symbol of a gallows with a rope attached, and with these ominous words, "Haste, haste, post haste-haste, post haste, for your life, for your life!" life!" And the energy thus infused into the servants of the throne was unfortunately, in part, successful. Seymour indeed escaped to Holland, but the lady Arabella was overtaken near the coast of France and brought back to England, where being confined a close prisoner in the Tower, the hopelessness of her situation preyed so much upon her mind that at length her reason gave way, and death, shortly after, released her from her manifold sufferings.

CHAPTER XI.

FOUR years after the events just related, an elderly gentleman, with his wife and daughter, stood on the cliff, at Dacre, watching anxiously an approaching vessel. As it neared the land the gentleman, with his companions, descended the cliff and hastened towards it. Soon they saw a boat put off from the side, and in it sat a noble gentleman in the very prime and beauty of manhood.

The little party had evidently been recognized by the traveler, for no sooner did the boat grate the beach than he sprang on shore, and in a moment, was by the maiden's side. After a few hearty and hasty congratulations, he drew the maiden's arm within his own and said,

"I have pined for this day, my sweet Helen, and lo! it hath come at last without a cloud, and now, dear one, what answer make you to the question in my letter? Keep me no longer in suspense I do implore you."

"What better answer can I make, William," said the maiden, blushing, "than that I am here?"

"Never to part more," said he, with joyful eagerness.

"Even as you will," she replied, in a low tone, and then she leaned heavily upon his arm and looked with her deep blue earnest eyes, trustingly, in his face. Oh! what a world of love spake in that look! and Seymour saw it, and pressing her closely to his heart, murmured

"My own fond wife!"

AAVEN.

BY OTWAY CURRY.

AAVEN of the uncounted years-
Aaven of the sleepless eye—
Wanderer of the uncounted years—
Outcast of the earth and sky-

Worn of life and weary grown,
Turned him to the shore unknown.

Rose before him stern and stark,
One with adamantine wand—
Warder of the portal dark-
Portal of the unknown land:

And the warder wierd and grim
Barred the portal dusk and dim.

"Wanded warder list to me!
'Tis a weary thing to roam
O'er the earth and o'er the sea,
Tarrying till The Master come.

From the earth and from the sea,
Turn my wandering steps to thee.

Swiftly came, and glided on,
Sceptred hand and laureled brow-
Glided many a queenly one,
Nameless in the wide world now.
Murmured Aaven in his fear,
"Never will The Lost appear!"

From the long and silent sleep
Of remoter ages gone-

Following fast the wand's wild sweep,
Came the long ranks filing on-

Passed full many a thronging host-
Came not still the loved, The Lost.

Sudden on the watcher's sight
Broke, amidst the phantom throng,
Beauteous form of maiden bright,
Gliding pensively along :

And the wondering Warder's hand
Stilled the adamantine wand.

Wildly, as the vision came,
Aaven from the Warder sprang ;
And the sound of MIRIAM's name
Through the World of Shadows rang.
Aaven to his sad heart there
Clasped alone the lifeless air.

Fell the adamantine wand—
Reeled the portal dusk and dim-
Faded far the Unknown Land,
And the wanded Warder grim :-
Miriam fled from earthly shore,
And from Aaven, evermore.