too.

THE WAIL OF THE WIND.

66

FROM THE OLD HOUSE BY THE RIVER.

full of life, and none so full of gentleness. Children and I stood watching it from the window. Suddenly left their play when she came near; and I do verily there came a crash of thunder that shook the foundaHE night was cold. The library shutters rattled so believe there was not an old man in the town who did tions of the world, that seemed to rock the old earth to taes but silently,

them, and then we could listen to the wind with less disturbance. And a full-toned, sonorous voice, he had, There's an old tree above the wing which contains the library, to which the wind always seems to be talking, or the tree is replying, one or the other, for they keep up a noise between them, and we-that is, Willis and I have so long listened, that we have grown familiar with the language they use. We had listened to it for a half an hour or more in perfect silence, when a new voice joined the conversation, and we both started and leaned forward. It was indescribably sweet, but mournful, as if some delicate plant (I think it was the woodbine on the corner of the house) had suddenly wailed out a complaint to the wind of his rudeness. It rose and fell, and rose again, now in a long note of thrilling sadness, and now in discontented sobs, and at length it died quite away. We remained motionless and silent for a moment, and then Joe spoke :

'Do you remember the last time we heard a sound like that!"

"Yes, I very well remember it. It was in the cabin. You were sleeping, and it awoke you. I was writing by the fire-light, and I turned over and listened to it; and when it ceased I was in a dream-land. How I slept that night! and yet there was a tempest abroad. Joe, I wish you would ring the bell-that fire is getting low, and Anthony has forgotten us."

66

There is something in that peculiar wail which I do not like. I never heard it yet without some sad affair following it. I'm growing superstitious of late. Twice in my life I have heard it as now. The time you speak of, in the cabin, it lacked the bird-like trill which concluded it. I have noticed the difference. There is something very unearthly in that peculiar

sound."

"I heard you say something of the same sort once before. Please explain. I did not know that your life had been marked by any visitations of the super

natural."

"It has not been, except in dreams; and in those how often! I tell you, Phil, God never gave to human intellect a gift so blessed as the power of dreaming. It is a magic surpassing that of the woman of Endor; for it not only calls the dead to life again, and clothes them with familiar looks and smiles, but it has power over that most difficult object of resurrection, a dead affection! and it will bring it from the dead without the grave clothes, in all its original beauty and ravishing glory. Sometimes it enters the future; not often though (and Willis spoke musingly now, as if I were not present). I dare not let my dreams go there too often, lest the magic with the fabled power of the olden time destroy the magician! I dare not weave a spell around the things to come, lest the servants of my magic destroy or madden me!"

"A story, Joe-I wait," said I, raising my feet to the soft cushion of the footstool in front of the grate. "Well, listen then. I'll tell you one with which you are not familiar, though you know the chief incidents:

"It is one of those memories that often haunt me as I sit here before the grate when you are gone, conjuring up the past, to keep my company. Ah, Phil, I love to dream!

"Did you know Carrie Graydon! She grew up while you were away. She had an eye like a star, or a blue break in a cloudy sky. Not that her face was cloudy. That it never was, but always sunny. Never was there a fairer or a brighter-save one."

heaven.

"Well, to my story. I drag on slowly in these
recollections; but, in truth, they flood on me so that I
cannot get along any faster; for the faster I speak, the
faster they flock. The instant I think of Carrie, I
think of her father, the stout old man, and her brother,
and then of the old minister, Mr. Winter: he was
always at Colonel Graydon's in the twilight. You
might see them any summer evening in the porch,
sitting side by side, talking as familiarly as brothers,
of the future and of the past as well. They had lived
near each other a long life-time. There, too, was
Mrs. Simpson, who used to stop in the street as she
passed the Colonel's, and speak a word, if but to hear
the two old men's voices; They sounded so heaven-
like,' she used to say. And there was Fanny Wilson,
Carrie's best friend, almost as fair, and quite as gentle;
and then, Harry Wilson too, the dearest of all the world
to Carrie Graydon.

"And he was worthy the love even of Carrie. A
noble fellow he was, with a stout arm and a stout
heart, and ready to die for her at any time, as he did
at last. His love was manly, and ennobled himself as
well as its object. It was no whining, whimpering
love, that thrives in moony nights, and talks of stars,
or shivers over grates in the winter, and dreams of
summer coming again. It was no ball-room love, that
lived in a touch of the gloved finger in a cotillion, or
the public embrace of the waltz. No such love as the
men and women of this day talk and write of. By all
the saints, I would not buy that girl's love that you
bowed to in the street the last day we were in the city,
if you prized it at a kiss. I press lips now a days, as
I used to press my father's old aunt's lips, who re-
warded me with a fortune for my respectful saluta-
tions. The old lady thought there was the air of a
gentleman in my kisses! Faugh! I used to kiss
with heart as well as lips; but these days are cold, and
my heart and lips, too! Phil, touch the fire. I'm
shivering.
"What a brilliant love that was. I remember a
hundred little incidents now that proved its forbear-
ance and its beauty. They never exchanged an unkind
word. From childhood till the end, they placed
unbounded confidence each in the other. I believe if
Henry had told Carrie it was snowing in a hot August
day, she would have put on a cloak to go out, and
shivered at that, so firm was her faith in all he said.
He never had deceived her in thought or deed. The
hypocritical days were not yet come, theugh men have
been hypocrites since the days of Adam. But hypo-
crisy is the characteristic of this day, and the whole
world is a sort of masked ball. God only knows
what skeleton's and death's heads are under the cloaks
and masks.

"I was talking about Carrie Graydon, wasn't I? I
wander parenthetically. Don't be surprised if I dis-
cuss the quadrature of the circle before I finish my
story, for I'm in a roving humor.

"The Colonel loved Henry too as his own son, knowing that he expected to be so when Carrie should be eighteen. It lacked a year of that yet.

"It was the afternoon of the seventeenth of August -I remember the date because of my frequent recurrence to it and its history-Henry and Carrie were away on the hills on horseback. They left at two o'clock, and were to return by seven. Carrie had my horse, Zephyr; I often lent him to her.

"She kissed her hand to me gaily as she flew away, and I returned the salute, little thinking of the close of the day's pleasure.

Joe paused for an instant as he uttered the last sentence; and I saw a shade of suppressed grief pass, like a cloud in a swift wind, across his face. I knew that "I dined with Colonel Graydon, and Mr. Winter he then stood in the presence of a holy vision. And was also at his house till evening, when an approachas the past went before him with stately tread and ing storm warned us homeward. The suddenness solemn mien, as the loved past always goes before us with which it came up prevented my going farther in these lonesome later years, I turned away my face, than Dr. Wilson's, and there I turned in to wait for and left him to the communion of that dream. He the return of my horse as well as the end of the storm. remembered the story he was to tell no longer! He It was a fearful tempest at first, and then followed a remembered only that vision of loveliness, unforgotten flood of rain. The small mountain-streams were and unchanged in the long long years since he buried swollen to torrents, and the creek became a broad it out of his sight. He heard the wind no longer! river, shaking the village with its roar and heavy fall He heard only that new voice, musical now with over the upper ledge of the rocks. The mountains laughter, and now with songs. trembled at the noise of the thunder, and the voice of "Carrie was our village pet; and you know what God shook the earth itself. A tall tree before Dr. We all loved her, with right willing love. Wilson's office swayed to and fro in the wind with a She was one of those that we love to love. None so groaning sound, and as the gale increased it bent over,

that means.

the noise of its fall was overpowered by that deep sound that went rolling away among the mountains, now lower, now louder, echoing from some cliff, or moaning through a far-off glen, till it died away, and a stillness ensued which was more sublime than the voice that preceded it. Not a sound was in the air; not a whisper of the wind, not a rustling branch, not a drop of rain, to break the solemn silence. Then, like the wail of a mother over her dead boy, that wail of a broken heart, than which no voice of human utterance is more sad, stole out on the hushed air the same sweet sound of the wind you heard just now. Fitfully at first, as if the weeper dared not weep aloud; then more distinct, until it swelled into a thrilling wail that made one half believe an angel was mourning for her love; and it died away faintly, as if the heart was crushed, and life had departed with the last notes of that unutterably melodious voice.

"I was still standing at the window, when a gleam of sunshine broke through the clouds, and a rainbow rested across the glen. Within a few moments the sun went down, and just then Colonel Graydon came in. He was anxious lest Henry and Carrie had been caught among the hills, and the horses would be restive at the lightning. We sat talking till after dark, and then were aroused by a call for aid, to secure the old bridge below the fall, which the swollen stream had nearly carried away. You remember it was about half a mile from the village, and we hastened there with a dozen hands. The bridge was in a bad condition; so bad that no one dared cross it. It was swaying back and forth, and every instant seemed as if the addition of an ounce weight would send it down. The stream was in wild commotion, leaping along in the moonlight, silvery and laughing, but with terrible fury. The moon shone gloriously on the trees and water. Phil, I hate the moon. cold-terribly cold-and she smiles so mockingly on agony, that I don't trust her smiles on joy. The stars are different. They suit themselves to our moods-are sad as we are sad, and gleam joyfully when we rejoice. But the moon is the same calm, cool, smiling moon in woe or gladness.

She is

"I shrank from the stream with a shudder, beautiful as it was, and did not offer any aid to the men who were making that end fast as well as they could. While they were at work I heard the sound of horses' hoofs coming down the opposite hill, and was astonished to see Henry and Carrie emerge from the wood at a rapid trot. They should have come by the other road, but had taken a long route around. We shouted to them, but they did not hear us. They were laughing gaily, as we could see in the moonlight, and Carrie's hand was raised playfully to strike Henry with her whip as they came on the bridge. They had but crossed half way when Henry saw his danger. Evidently it was a sudden discovery, for he seized Carrie's rein, drew his horse close, and shouted, so that we heard him distinctly, " On, on for your life, Carrie," and dashed forward. Side by side the two horses made tremendous leaps, and three more would have saved them. Colonel Graydon rushed forward, but a strong arm held him back, for Mr. Winter was not weak though old and silver-haired.

"Zephyr was a tempest, but it was too late. The noble animals strained every limb, themselves doubtless aware of the fearful danger; the bridge swayed downward, back again-downward-it cracked, it crashed, it thundered over the roar of the streamthey were gone! I saw the white gleam of a hand on the surface of the torrent, among planks and timber, and then the mass rolled downward and separated, and I next saw Zephyr and his rider emerge, the former apparently unharmed, but the latter evidently badly hurt. Harry had deserted his horse, and when he came up, was close to Carrie, so that as she fell from the horse he caught her and threw one arm Some around her, while he swam with the other. loads are easy to bear, and some are lighter than no load at all. I believe that under ordinary circumstances Henry would have buffeted any current better with Carrie in one arm, but he had received a bad blow from a falling timber, and labored much. I could see that his strength failed him, and I struck out more earnestly. I forgot to tell you that I leaped in as the bridge fell. I don't know how nor where. I was a

(I did look at him!)

"Well, but "-for he hadn't told me-" but your descent, love? Is it so very historical?" "Very. I come in a direct line-so direct, my dar

"Nevertheless"-and he went on, as if he didn't see me-" nevertheless, my beloved, I must say it showed great elevation of mind on your part to trustling, you might think it was drawn by a ruler-a diyour future fate to a man, without so much as even a rect line from JOAN OF ARC." hint about his arms. But it only shows the beautiful devotion of woman! What have arms to do with the heart? Wedlock defies all heraldry."

strong swimmer, as I am still, and I found myself in
the water waiting for them to come up. I neared
them rapidly, but not so rapidly as to to save them. I
never before nor since swam with such a prize before
me, but it was vain. I saw them go down; I saw
Harry struggle, bravely, boldly; I saw her in that
moment of agony try to relieve him of her load, and I
saw him draw her more closely to him, and the water
alone was before me and the mocking moonbeams! I "I thought "said I-" that, for a lawful marriage,
saw a white gleam, as of a hand. It was but a foam- the wedding-ring must have the Hall mark?"
cap. I dove and searched for them, swimming down- "I don't think it indispensable. I take it, brass
ward with the current. I cannot give you any idea of would be as binding. Indeed, my love, I think accord-
the intensity of thought which I then felt. It was the ing to the Council of Nice, or Trent, or Gretna Green
responsibility of those two lives which oppressed my I forget which a marriage has been solemnized
brain to madness. I knew that I alone was between with nothing more than a simple curtain-ring."
them and eternity, and I believe if I had not found the "Nonsense," said I; "such a marriage could never
object of my search, I should have gone down myself. hold. Curtain-rings are very well in their way; but
Their arms were locked around each other. I suc-give me the real gold."
ceeded in reaching a jutting point of land where
Colonel Graydon and the rest seized me and my
precious burden, and I remember nothing farther until
returning sensation showed me a group standing sadly
around the two forms which I had rescued. God had
not given me to rescue both of them. The spirit of
Harry Wilson had gone from the torrent to the rest of
the blessed. I staggered toward the side of Carrie
Graydon. She was beautiful beyond all words, and as
I fell at her side, a tremulous motion of her eyelid in-wear.
dicated returning sensation. The usual active reme-
dies were used and she revived, but only to look at
Henry and throw herself on his body and relapse into

unconsciousness.

"And the moon smiled on that scene too, and the river laughed wildly at its work, and I laid my hand on the breast of Henry Wilson and knew that his sleep was very deep, even death. And we forbore for awhile to remove the clasp of Carrie's arms, or attempt to restore her, so overpowered were we all by the scene; and one by one in the presence of the noble dead, and at the holiest altar whereat man may kneel on earth and worship God in heaven, they knelt, Colonel Graydon by my side, and Dr. Wilson on the other side of his noble son, and Mr. Winter, the good old minister, bowed his head and murmured with a choking sob: 'It is the Lord,' and wept aloud. Phil! I never wept more bitter tears, never, never." "What became of Miss Graydon ?" "She never forgave me for saving her. I don't mean by that that she was not grateful as the people of the world ordinarily are, but I have heard that she thought her life not worth the saving. The colonel left this country for the west shortly after that, and his daughter I am told, is the almoner of a new settlement among the prairies. She has never married."

"To be sure," replied FRED. "And yet, only to have something to say and nothing to show, is but parrot's vanity."

"But that needn't be. We might learn a great deal. And I should like to see Normandy; if only a bit of it. One could fancy the rest, Fred. And then-I've seen 'em in pictures-the women wear such odd caps! And then WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR-papa says we came in with him; so that we were Normans once; that is on papa's side-for mamma won't hear that she had anything to do with it-though papa has often threatened to get his arms. And now I think of it, FRED, what are your arms?"

"True, my love, that's the purity of your woman's nature. In such a covenant we can't be too real. Any way"-and he took my wedding-finger between his-" any way, LOTTY, yours seems strong enough to hold, ay, three husbands."

"One's enough," said I, looking and laughing at
him.
"At a time "-said FRED; "but when we're about
buying a ring, it's as well to have an article that will
Bless you," and he pressed his thumb upon my
ring, "this will last me out and another."
FREDERICK," I cried, very angrily; and then-I
couldn't help it-I almost began to weep. Where-
upon, in his kind, foolish manner he-well, I didn't
cry.

66

"Let us, my darling,” said FRED, after a minute, "let us return to our arms. And you came in with the Normans?"

"With WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR, papa says, so we must have arms."

66

Now I remember "-said FRED, as grave as a
judge-" once, a little in his cups, your father told me
all about it. I recollect. Very beautiful arms: a
Normandy pippin with an uplifted battle-axe."
"I never heard that "said I-"but that seems
handsome."

"Yes; your ancestors sold apples in the camp. A
fact, I assure you. It all comes upon me now. Real
Normandy pippins. They show a tree at Battle-this
your father told me as a secret; but as man and wife
are one, why it's only one half talking to the other
half-a tree at Battle grown from your ancestor's ap-
ple-pips. Something like a family tree, that."
"I don't believe a word of it," said I.

"You must.

Bless you" said FRED-" arms come by faith, or how many of the best of people would be without 'em. There's something innocent in the pippin: besides it would paint well. And with my

arms.

"Yes;" I cried; " and what are they, FRED?"
"Well, it's odd we were-it's plain-made for one
another. I came from Normandy too."

"You did?" and I was pleased.

"Yes," said he. "I wonder what terms our families were on a thousand years ago? To be sure, I came to England later than you and I can't exactly say who I came with: but then-for I'm sure I can trust my grandmother-my descent is very historical. I assure you that your family pippin will harmonize with my bearings beautifully."

"We'll have the hall-chairs painted," said I, and I felt quite pleased.

"And the gig of course," said FRED.

it!" said I.
"Of course; for what is life if one does'nt enjoy

"Very true, love. And the stable-bucket." con-
tinued FRED.

"Just as you please, dear," said I; "but certainly
the hall-lamp."

much to expect," said FRED.
"Yes: and if we could only get-no, but that's too

"What's too much?" I asked; for FRED's manner

"Don't you know?" asked FRED, puckering his mouth-well, like any bud. "Don't you know!" "No, I don't!" and I bit my lip and would be serious.quite excited me. "What are they?"

"Why, I was thinking, if we could get your great
hatchment."
aunt merely to die, we might turn out a very pretty

"It's very odd," said he, "very odd. And you are Normans! To think now, LOTTY, that I should have made you flesh of my flesh, without first learning far. where that flesh first came from. You must own, my love, it was very careless of me. A man doesn't even buy a horse without a pedigree."

"Now, FREDERICK!"-for this was going too

give us a great lift in the neighborhood: and as you
"I assure you, my love" said FRED" 'twould
say, what's existence without enjoying it! What's
life without paint?"

66

It's very natural, Lorry”—said FRED. A reasonable, yes, a very reasonable ambition. Well, at Rouen, I have no doubt I can show you my family tree; at the same time, I should'nt wonder if we could obtain some further authentic intelligence about your pippin."

"Nothing more likely," said I; for I did want to see France. "Nothing more likely." "I'm afraid there's no regular boat across," said FRED, "but we can hire a boat."

"A boat? Why, my dear, a boat is”— "Yes; in a nice trim sea boat we can cross admirably; and, my love," said FRED, moving close and placing his arm about me; "my love, the matter grows upon me. Let us consider it. Here we are about to begin the world. In fact I think I may say, we have begun it."

"Mamma always said marriage wasn't beginning, but settling."

"Let us say the beginning of the settling. Well, we are at a very interesting part of our history; and who knows what may depend upon our voyage!"

"Still you'll never go in a boat that"-but he put his hand over my mouth, and went on.

"I declare, beloved LOTTY, when I look upon ourselves-two young creatures-going forth upon the waters to search for and authenticate our bearingswhen I reflect, my darling, that not merely ourselves, but our unborn great grandchildren"

"Don't be foolish, FRED," said I; but he would. "That our great grandchildren, at this moment in the dim regions of probability, and in the still dimmer limbo of possibility"

Any way, my love, those dearest beings are vitally interested in the matter of our voyage. Therefore, I'll at once go and charter a boat. "Would you like it with a deck?"

66

Why, my love, dearest-as for a boat, I"-and I felt alarmed.

"COLUMBUS found America almost in a punt," said FRED; "then surely we may seek our arms in"

"But stop," I cried; for he was really going. After all, love," and I resolutely seated myself on his knee, and held him round the neck; "after all, you have not told me what are your arms? I mean your arms from JOAN OF ARC."

Very good. Well, in order to perpetuate the beautiful humility of her first calling, CHARLES THE SEVENTH magnificently permitted her and all her descendants, to carry in her shield—a lamb's fry!" "Now, FREDERICK!"

"Such are my bearings, inherited in a direct lineI say in a direct line-from the MAID OF ORLEANS !" "From the MAID OF" and then I saw what a goose he had made of me; and didn't I box his ears, but not to hurt him; and didn't we afterwards agree that the hall-chairs should remain as they were, and a touch of herald's paint. that life might be beautiful and bright enough without

How we did laugh at the family pippin!

Printed and Published for the Proprietors by P. D. Orvis, 75 Nassau Street, New York.

THE STAR CHAMBER;

AN HISTORICAL ROMANCE,

BY W. HARRISON AINSWORTH, Esq.,

Author of "Old St. Paul's," the "Tower of London," "Windsor
Castle," "Rookwood," &c.

FRANCIS MITCHELL.]
Engraved expressly for the New York Journal.

pose repaired to the tavern, about dinner-time, on the | were occupied by foreign merchants and traders, dis-
appointed day.

The hostess received him very graciously; trifled and jested with him as was her custom, and looked all blandishments and smiles to him and everybody else, as if nothing could possibly happen to disturb her serenity. Sir Francis was more perplexed than ever. With the levity and heedlessness of a Frenchwoman, she must have forgotten all about the claim. What if he should venture to remind her of it? Better not. Merry Wives of Windsor. The application would come soon enough. He was

"I WILL MAKE A STAR CHAMBER MATTER OF IT."

Continued from page 19.

THE
HE month allowed by the notice expired, and
Madame Bonaventure's day of reckoning arrived.
No arrangement had been attempted in the interim,
though abundant opportunities of doing so were
afforded her, as Sir Francis Mitchell visited the Three
Cranes almost daily. She appeared to treat the matter
very lightly, always putting it off when mentioned;
and even towards the last seemed quite unconcerned,
as if entertaining no fear of the result. Apparently,
everything went on just as usual, and no one would
have supposed, from Madame Bonaventure's manner,
that she was aware of the possibility of a mine being
sprung beneath her feet. Perhaps she fancied she
had countermined her opponents, and so felt secure.
Her indifference puzzled Sir Francis, who knew not
whether to attribute it to insensibility or over-confi-
dence. He was curious to see how she would con-
duct herself when this crisis came: and for that pur-

glad it devolved upon his partner, and not on himself,
to proceed to extremities with so charming a person.
He really could not do it. And yet all the while
he chuckled internally as he thought of the terrible
dilemma in which she would be speedily caught, and
how completely it would place her at his mercy. She
must come to terms then. And Sir Francis rubbed
his skinny hands gleefully at the thought. On her
part, Madame Bonaventure guessed what was passing
in his breast, and secretly enjoyed the idea of check-
mating him. With a captivating smile she left him to
attend to her numerous guests.

cussing their affairs over a stoop of Bordeaux. Others, similarly employed, sat at the open casements in the rooms above; each story projecting so much beyond the other that the old building, crowned with its fanciful gables and heavy chimnies, looked topheavy, and as if it would roll over into the Thames some day. Others, again were seated over their wine in the pleasant little chamber built over the porch, which, advancing considerably beyond the door, afforded a delightful prospect, from its lantern-like windows, of the river, now sparkling with a sunshine (it was a bright May day), and covered with craft, extending on the one hand to Baynard's Castle, and on the other to the most picturesque object to be found then, or since, in London-the ancient Bridge, with its towers, gateways, lofty superstructures, and narrow arches, through which the current dashed swiftly; and, of course, commanding a complete view of the opposite bank, beginning with Saint Saviour's fine old church, Winchester House, the walks, gardens, and playhouses, and ending with the fine groves of timber skirting Lambeth Marshes. Others repaired to the smooth and well-kept bowling alley in the narrow court at the back of the house, where there was a mulberry tree two centuries older than the tavern itself -to recreate themselves with the healthful pastime there afforded, and indulge at the same time in a few whiffs of tobacco, which, notwithstanding the king's fulminations against it, had already made its way among the people.

And very numerous they were on that day. More so than usual. Sir Francis, who had brought a boat from Westminster, where he dwelt, experienced some difficulty in landing at the stairs, invested as they were with barges, wherries, and watermen, all of whom had evidently brought customers to the Three Cranes. Besides these, there were two or three gilded pinnaces lying off the wharf, with oarsmen in rich liveries, evidently belonging to persons of rank. The ordinary was held in the principal room in the The benches and little tables in front of the tavern house; which was well enough adapted for the pur