trolled passions. This strange youth looked, in miniature, like Lucifer,lovely to the sight, but a fell destroyer at heart.

The Count Benavente, Alphonso's father, approached the spot; Maria whispered some words to him as she rose and took his arm. The count kissed her forehead; and leaving her with his son and her cousin, advanced towards the stranger.

"My lad, what do you here? What is your name? Who introduced you into this house? Have you any friends present ?"

The extraordinary being to whom these queries were made, looked at the count. His only answer was a look of inconceivable hauteur and insolence. "Will you be pleased to answer me? Remember that I command' in Seville, and also that you are an unbidden guest in this house."

'My name is Hernandez," the lad after a short pause replied. "I have entered this house, because the doors stood open for my reception. The noise of music and merriment attracted my attention. Was I wrong?"

"This house, my child, is not a place of public amusement, but the private dwelling of myself and family, and these guests my invited friends. Upon the joyous occasion of their meeting, I would not seem harsh to any one; but finding your presence has disturbed the harmony of the scene, and still more so your extraordinary conduct, you must immediately retire."

The youth made a motion it would be difficult to comprehend; but whatever it portended he restrained the action.

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Sennhor, neither you nor any of your family or guests have the right to insult a Spanish gentleman; and such I am, though my present garb, being that of a scholar, may not befit my rank in life. I, perhaps, did wrong to enter this house, as it were, clandestinely; but being now here, I shall remain, notwithstanding your proud daughter's aversion to my presence, as long as it pleases me, unless removed by force."

"For Heaven's sake, dear father, let him be removed; he makes me tremble," rejoined Maria.

“Ah! Donna; then you are afraid of a poor child! Why is it? because your heart tells you that you have insulted him; and I repeat it once again --spoken falsely; for you said you would not dance any more, and you have danced twice since."

Donna Maria, in a sort of agony, looked at her lover with a suppliant eye, beaming with that eloquence so peculiar to love. "Alphonso, dearest, "I implore you to take from my sight that horrid vision,-that mysterious boy, whose insolence is quite intolerable."

“I thank you, Donna Maria, for your compliment," haughtily exclaimed Hernandez," as he moved a step nearer. Shall we not part better friends?" And he approached still closer.

H 3

"Maria uttered a scream; and hiding her face in Alphonso's bosom, wildly called upon him to save her. At this moment the old Count dos Arcos returned, followed by several servants. They advanced towards the spot where Hernandez stood. His intention was to have requested him civilly to quit; but beholding the agitation of his daughter, he observed no measures, but imperatively ordered his servants to thrust the boy out of doors.

"Pardon me, your excellency," exclaimed Don Alphonso; "I feel certain he will quit without any violence being necessary; for his looks at this moment betray anguish and despair at having caused this cruel disturbance.” Yes, I will quit this inhospitable house, where a stranger, a Spaniard, and a gentleman has met with nothing but insult and falsehood; but mistake not the anguish of my mind, nor attribute it to fear or regret; the first I am a stranger to; the other, indeed, to some extent I may experience, --not the regret of having offended, but the regret of having sustained an indignity I have no immediate opportunity to revenge." He cast a last scowling look at Maria, wrapped his cloak round his slender figure, and disappeared through the balcony window, waving his hand as he exclaimed aloud," You shall yet dance the Rey don Morso with me, proud Donna." On his departure all parties seemed relieved from an oppressive weight. Who could this mysterious youth be that exercised such a fatal empire by the mere influence of his eyes? Hernandez was not a very common name; but it indicated no family rank. The youth's appearance was that of what he called himself, a scholar of some university, or might be that of an hidalgo (gentleman) of respectable parentage; but the arrogance of his language belonged to no grade of society, and could not have been brooked from the mightiest prince to the most abject dependant.

The Governor in vain inquired of the servants if any one had seen the young man enter. All answered that they knew nothing about it. He appeared perfectly well acquainted with every part of the palace, as on quitting the ball-room he had been seen to take the shortest way out to regain the city."

"And you have never seen this singular being before to-night, Maria ?” asked Don Alphonso. "It is marvellous he should have selected you as the object of his mad reveries. Tell me, dearest love, have you ever chanced to meet him before?"

Maria hesitated to answer: the question implied a doubt that wounded her heart; but clasping her hands, and raising her tearful eyes on Alphonso she seemed to chide him for his unkindness. The language of the heart, thus spoken to those who feel its sense, needs no words of expression.

"Forgive me, Maria; but I love you so tenderly, that I am jealous even of those who look upon you with preference; and this strange youth seemed to have spoken to you with the freedom of an old acquaintance,-indeed in terms that even the nearest relative could scarcely dare to utter. But let us think no more of this tragi-comic scene; our friends around us are determined not to quit before the matin bell summons them to a higher duty; and ere it is again heard to sound, I shall claim at the altar the pledge of all my future happiness,-the only treasure I covet on earth.”

Maria smiled as she presented her hand. It shall be yours, dear Alphonso, by the sacred ties of our holy religion;-my heart you have long possessed."

Donna Maria danced no more; but her friends kept up the mazy dance with unabated spirit; and the Seguedilla's chorus made the vaulted roofs of the old palace resound with mirth.

Thus the night advanced-the air becoming more keen, possessed that balsamic freshness indicative of daybreak. The perfume of myrtle and orange blossom, charged with the dew of morning, sent forth fresh odours, almost too powerful to inhale after the fatigue of dancing.

"My dear father, we must retire; the company have nearly all departed. Farewell, dearest Alphonso, we soon shall meet again."

"Aye, beloved Maria-to part no more!"

Donna Maria blushed as she cast down her long eyelashes, while her attentive cousin was wrapping a black taffety Capuchin mantle about her, entirely concealing her face in the hood.

"Why, my dear Niévés, have you deprived yourself of this mantilla? You will catch cold, I fear."

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'No, no, dear Maria; never fear on my account. I have been sitting quiet while you were dancing, and can brave the morning air with greater impunity than you can. Besides, I have no fond lover to grieve for me, if I do catch cold. I will, however, put on your mantle instead of my cape." "It has no hood, dear cousin. You must wrap something round your head."

"Well, then, I will put on your veil, wrapping it round my head as you often wear it, just leaving a peep out. I might pass for you in the eyes of many. Do you think, Alphonso, you should discover the difference. Though it is said Love is blind, I promise you I think myself almost as pretty as Maria—therefore, should not feel particularly proud of being mistaken for her, even by such a gallant cavalier as yourself."

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Come, girls, march!" said the Count dos Arcos, placing his niece's arm within his own, and leaving his daughter to the Governor's care. "Come,

my dears. Do you not see that reddish white band of vapour just above the horizon? It announces Aurora's coming, and a very hot day; and I fear the solano will blow with the greater violence at night on the banks of the river, when it goes down."

The Governor observed, "I trust not, Count. Its ravages have been terrible, this season; and much crime attributed to its influence on the human mind. It appears impossible to check this scourge; and I feel it extremely difficult to punish men who answer at the bar of justice—I am criminal, but I did not wish to become so. I knew not what I was doing."

The party had now reached the great entrance court of the palace, and was proceeding along its gallery, enclosed by elegantly open-worked pilastres. It was sombre beneath these antique arches; a damp and chill air struck cold upon the feelings. Don Alphonzo approached nearer to Maria, and pressing her arm gently, felt it tremble.

"We will hasten forward, dearest," said she. "I feel chilled in the gallery, after having been so extremely warm with dancing."

"See, dear Maria, our journey is nearly at an end; yonder shine the torches, at the end of the gallery, where the servants are in waiting."

A piercing cry—a cry of death, broke through the silence of night, and was faintly echoed through the old arches of the gallery. It was a female's voice -the voice of Niévés. Maria sprang from between her supporters, who vainly attempted to detain her, and rushed to the spot from whence the sound proceeded. It was indeed her cousin! It was she, who had been struck by an assassin's hand. There she lay, extended on the pavement, bathed in a pool of blood, which still continued to flow from a wound beneath her left breast. "Holy mother! help! help!"

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The old Count was kneeling close to the fallen body, in speechless agony. He contemplated the tender flower thus untimely cut off by a murderous hand, even while it clung to him for support. Maria, with a haggard eye, bent over the sister of her adoption-the friend of her heart, the sole confidant of her pleasures or her pain-extended before her, dead,—assassinated. Falling on her knees, in the purple stream of life, as it yet continued to flow, she seized Niévés' hand; it was warm and soft. She kissed it, and kissed her pale lips-thought a faint breath was perceptible,-placed her hand upon the bleeding bosom-imagined it pulsated slowly. "Help! for the mercy of Heaven, help! She is not dead."

Then springing up, restored to more than ordinary strength by the momentary excitation, Maria raised the body partly forward, stimulating all around to give assistance by her heroic example. No effort was left untried to restore life, but all in vain. The last spark of existence had filed. Already

the rigid chill of death spread over that lovely frame, but so lately radiant in innocent beauty, and the glow of health. "Oh! she is dead. Niévés, my sister, thou art no more."

A surgeon, who was examining the wound, observed, as he mournfully shook his head, "The blow has unhappily been given by too sure a hand for any hope to exist: the unfortunate senhora could not have survived a single minute."

Donna Maria suddenly raised her head. "And the assassin ?" cried she, in a voice of firmness. "Where is he? Has no one sought him? Are you all afraid of his poignard? My sister, my beloved lost sister, I will myself avenge thee!" And springing forward, attempted to pass her father and lover, as they rushed towards her, to stay her steps.

"My poor child, the murderer is pursued. Endeavour to compose yourself. Let us quit this scene of horror. Come, Maria, with thy father, and thy affianced husband, in whose arms thy tears will meet with kindred sympathy, and flow less bitterly. Come, my love."

Gently placing his arm round her waist, her father would have led her away, but Maria looked with sternness at him, withdrew from his grasp, and crossing her arms on her bosom, in a resolute voice, replied"My father, I remain here. I shall not quit this body until the murderer is found. I call upon Heaven for justice. Oh! my Niévés, what other hands than mine should close those eyes?-what other voice than mine declare to the assassin, 'Thou shalt die !'"

Again kneeling beside the gory corpse, she kissed its cold lips, and with trembling hands, closed the still open eyes; then clasped her hands, and with uplifted countenance, seemed to offer an inward prayer for the departed friend of her heart.

A distant sound was now heard. It soon became more distinct. The rush of many steps now approached. Don Alphonso was the first who appeared, exclaiming," Maria, the murderer is taken!” Servants, soldiers, officers of justice, and a crowd of persons quickly followed, in the midst of whom was led-the "POOR CHILD!"

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His attitude was calm and haughty. He did not appear embarrassed at his situation. His paleness alone seemed more deathlike; and a furrow above his eyebrows, more deeply marked, rendered his look ferocious. A bitter smile sat upon his thin lips. His whole appearance seemed to brave his judges, rather than ask their mercy.

At the words, "The murderer is taken!" Maria awoke from her lethargy of grief. Rising from the pavement, with her ball-dress saturated in blood, she stood erect before the assassin, and addressed him in a