beloved, let us not give way to our own finite judgment, but rely with implicit faith on the wisdom of Providence, by whose inscrutable will all things are ordained for the best. Come, dearest, you must cheer up."

The moon now dashed her pearly rays between the branches of myrtle, orange, and rose-trees, laden with perfumed blossoms. Its beams cast a silvery light upon the richly sculptured marble window frames of an arabesque apartment, whose walls were studded with mosaic work of a thousand hues, in all the endless variety of kaleidoscope pictures. In the centre of this room stood a group of antique statues, recently discovered in the environs of Seville. Alphonso led his wife to a marble seat near them, and throwing his arms around her, tried by every soothing means to banish from her mind the gloomy thoughts that embittered her happiness.

“Does not the bland air of evening, charged with perfumes, feel sweetly refreshing, Maria? What evil can reach you here, my beloved wife? Is it not a scene almost too good for man to enjoy ?"

Maria, for a moment forgetting the accents of death that the old palace galleries yet seemed to echo, softly murmured," Oh, no, Alphonso; with you, what harm can reach me, or any one dear to me?"

Suddenly a brilliant light burst upon the spot where they were sitting; -a crowd of pages and servants with scented wax torches preceded the governor, who was returned from the archbishop's, where a dinner of great ceremony had that day taken place. They rose to meet him, and shaking hands with Alphonso, he kissed Maria on the forehead.

"What, my dear children, still making love? it would seem your honeymoon will last for ever. May the Holy Mother grant it! I would have returned sooner home, as I hate the pomp of public dinners, but it was impossible; the good archbishop celebrated his natal day, and would not allow his guests to quit before the hour he had fixed. He seemed so happy, and looked so well, that it did every one's heart good to look upon his venerable face. And, by way of a treat, his lordship's pages enacted a little impromptu comedy, that reminded us of the history of Scipio, in Gil Blas, at which the dear old man laughed till tears flowed down his cheeks."

"Is not to-day the elevation of the Holy Cross, dear sir?" observed Alphonso.

'

'Certainly; but to-morrow is St. Nicodemus's day,—the patron of the archbishop, which he always celebrates in advance on his own birthday!"

"You should always remember, dear Alphonso, that the 14th of September is the day of the elevation of the Holy Cross in our Rubric; and to-morrow, the 15th of September, St. Nicodemus's festival ;-but I fear me you are not so well versed in the history of our Holy Church as you ought to be. I must,

however, give you absolution of that sin, in consideration of the worship you so devoutly pay to this fair saint on earth. Good night, my children; may all the saints of Heaven watch over you, and give you sweet slumber."

15th of September! on hearing that fatal day, Maria sunk back on the seat overwhelmed with trembling emotions. It was the day on which the miscreant Hernandez would terminate his seven years' incarceration.

We shall meet again! seemed, at this moment, to ring in her ears,—as clasping her hands together, she looked with tearful eyes on Alphonso.

The boy murderer was now become a man,-a man, perhaps, determined to glut his revenge with double appetite, as it was combined with recollection of his long captivity. Upon whom would it fall?—her husband, children, or herself? perhaps all might be involved at one fell swoop of this demon's rage. The thought was more than nature could support,-more than she could conceal. Alphonso divined all that passed in her mind,' but refrained from making any observation, and gently led her to rest, trusting that a night's tranquil repose would soften her agitated bosom. Maria passed a feverish night, haunted by the horrid vision of death,-the murderer's knife seemed raised to strike her. Towards morning she slept more tranquilly; but still hideous dreams disturbed her fancy. As the day appeared, every sound of the distant clock made her tremble,-it seemed to toll the knell of death. Alphonso, well aware of the period at which Hernandez' sentence would expire, had taken care with the proper authorities, that at the moment of his liberation he should instantly be conveyed into banishment beyond the frontiers of Spain; and this he was certain would be done, as the murderer would remain closely guarded until that moment when he was no longer under the Spanish government; and his return to Spain would incur the penalty of death without any further trial.

Perceiving that Maria's extreme agitation arose from no other cause than her apprehensions of this monster's re-appearance, he determined to be the first to mention his name,—and by relating all the steps that would be taken to set her mind at rest upon that head.

“Dear Maria, compose your spirits, he has this morning quitted the city, and ere long will have left the Spanish territory for ever."

"Ah! Alphonso,--what, the murderer! is he gone?" Convulsively grasp. ing Alphonso in her arms, Maria whispered, “ Are you quite certain he is gone? do you know whither he went ?"

The wildness of her manner alarmed Alphonso; but he answered with firmness: "Yes, my love, he is gone well guarded to the frontier,-banished from this soil for ever under the penalty of death." Maria gazed timidly around her,-pressed her hand upon her throbbing temples as if to collect

her thoughts, then closed her eyes, and the motion of her lips indicated that she internally offered up a prayer. A long refreshing sleep succeeded, and some hours after she arose greatly restored. Her first step was to seek her children ;--surrounded by them she entered the palace chapel, and, kneeling, offered up most fervent prayers of gratitude to Heaven for its powerful protection, and for having graciously banished the monster at the moment Satan gave him his liberty.

Donna Maria was delighted with her husband's assurance of Hernandez' departure, and demonstrated by her joy how great must have been her anterior anxiety. She embraced her children with a sort of delicious pleasure, wept, laughed at the same moment, and seemed to enter into a new state of existence since that terrible destroyer of her happiness no longer breathed the same air with those so dear to her.

When the decline of day came, she respired freely the voluptuous air that entered the great saloon by the tall narrow windows, overlooking the verdant garden and limpid fountains. One of them formed a door opening upon an alley of myrtles and pomegranates, whose coronated fruit the children were playing with. This alley led to the summit of the rampart that surrounds the Alcaçar, and overlooks the town walls. Maria had just lulled her infant to sleep on her breast, and the servant placed it in its cradle. Seeing her father, husband, and his father all amusing themselves at ombre, she was seduced by the fine autumn evening to wander in the gardens. Here she found the elder children with their nurses, joyously amusing themselves in throwing oranges and pomegranates in every direction, laughing with youthful glee as they flew through the air, describing all kinds of circles and fantastic curves as they bounded on the velvet turf. In this mirth the happy mother joined with equal merriment, and her voice was loudest of the merry group; perfectly restored to tranquillity, resigned to the past, confident in the future; and her family's safety assured by the protection of the law, which she had ever been taught to view as invincible, for the first time during seven years she enjoyed unrestrained the delights of those scenes which poets have sung, and painters depicted as a land of fairy enchantment. Fatigued by following her children's giddy course, and the pursuit of her son, whose fleetness almost surpassed her own, she lay down on a bank covered with flowers, smiling in the beauty of a second spring-more beautiful, more bright in Andalusia than any other part of the world. Thus reclining, the children threw a handful of crocuses with violet leaves and golden petals at their mother, who returned them with showers of verdant leaves and flowers gathered in haste. In this infantine war the time passed rapidly away. The Ave Maria sounded its warning notes,—the day drew nigh its close.

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