"It is not to be supposed," he said to his great vas-him the spoils of the King of Norway—give him sals and nobles, "that a kingdom like England can be conquered without a battle; for the Saxons are a warlike people, and, if properly disciplined, would make the most valiant soldiers in the world. But heaven is with us, and I vow to God, if it pleaseth him to give me the victory, that on whatever spot the battle is fought, there will I erect a church to the Blessed Trinity, and to St. Martin, where masses shall perpetually be said for the sins of Edward the Confessor, those of myself and Matilda, and all who draw a sword or pull a bow-string on this field !"

sion became general; disheartened at the fall of their leader, his followers fled in all directions-the victory

was won.

The victorious Duke of Normandy slept that night upon the field of battle-which the Normans named "Sanguelac," or the "Lake of blood," in commemoration of the fiercely-contested battle-in which, according to William of Malmesbury, sixty thousand Saxons were slain, although this number is most probably exaggerated. William lost six thousand of his followers; but the victory was complete.

CHAPTER XIII.

On midwinter day, Aldred, the archbishop, hallowed him a king of Westminster, and gave him possession with the books of Christ; and also swore him, ere that he would set the crown upon his head, that he would so well govern this nation as any king before him best did, if they would be

faithful to him.

ON

SAXON CHRONICLE.

somewhat impatient of the delay in placing the crown of St. Edward upon his brow-"the diadem!"

"After you have taken the oath," quietly observed the prelate.

"What oath?" demanded the still kneeling prince. "To govern the land," said Aldred, raising his voice so as to be heard at the extreme end of the church, "according to its ancient laws and customs— to render justice equally to all-to maintain the rights of the clergy, and the liberties of the people."

the Christmas Day following the Battle of Hastings, there was great commotion and preparation in the cities of London and Westminster; for on that day, the Norman conqueror was to receive Indefinite as was the oath proposed, William hesiThe Conqueror, in the first flush of his triumph, the crown of St. Edward from the hands of Aldred, tated before taking it. The rights of the clergy were seems to have affected much moderation. He per- Archbishop of York-in consequence of a dispute at sufficiently understood-since the church, by her mitted the peasants to bury the remains of their that time existing between Stigand, the primate, and astute policy, had laboured for years to augment and slaughtered countrymen, whilst his own followers the see of Rome. William prudently decided on consolidate them on every occasion; not so the liberperformed the same sad office to those of their own being consecrated by the former prelate, in order to ties of the people-they either meant much or noparty who had fallen. Odo, the Bishop of Bayeux-prevent the validity of his coronation being ques- thing. who, contrary to the canons of the church, had taken tioned at any future period. part in the contest-celebrated mass upon the field; and as soon as the affairs of his new kingdom permitted him to devote himself to the work, William fulfilled his vow, by erecting the stately Abbey of Battle upon the field of his victory. The high altar of the church is supposed to have stood over the spot where the unfortunate Harold had planted his standard.

the Saxon nobles and franklins did really enter into
such a conspiracy.

The stately church in which so many sovereigns of England have received the emblems of their dignity, was strewed with rushes, and adorned with hangings of needlework-in which the Saxon ladies at that time excelled. As a matter of precaution, William had taken care to surround the sacred edifice with a strong body of troops, in order to protect himself and followers, if necessary, against any treachery Githa, the mother of the Saxon monarch on hearing on the part of his new subjects—who seem, however, of the defeat and death of her son, applied to the to have been too much delighted with the pageant Conqueror for permission to bury the body; and, it is of a coronation, to have entertained any sense of the said, even offered its weight in gold for the privilege degradation of the country submitting to the rule of of performing that last melancholy rite; but William a foreigner. We speak, of course, of the mass; for, could now afford to be generous, and he accorded if the opinion of certain writers be correct, some of the boon, without accepting the proffered ransom. The victorious Normans, in their thirst for plunder, had stripped and disfigured the dead, so that it was scarcely possible to distinguish the features of those who had fallen. This barbarous retaliation must have been carried to a fearful extent-since even the mother of Harold could not identify the body of her son; and her pious intentions must have been disappointed, had it not been for his mistress, a Saxon lady of high rank and great beauty, named Edith, or the "Swan-necked." No disfigurement could deceive the eye of the woman who had loved him; she sought out his remains amid the heaps of slain, and they were delivered to the mourning mother, who interred them in the Abbey of Waltham, which Harold himself had founded, and placed over the tomb the simple but expressive sentence.

HAROLD INFELIX! (HAROLD THE UNHAPPY!) William's first care was to dispatch tidings of his success to Matilda, who had retired to the Benedictine priory of Notre Dame, to pray for his success. Her husband's messenger found her engaged at her devotions, in the chapel of the convent. The duchess caused the establishment to be called "The Church of our Lady of Good News," in commemoration of the

event.

At an early hour on the morning of Christmas Day, William, who had slept at the Palace of Blackfriars, proceeded by water to London Bridge, where he landed, and, mounted on horseback, set forth, accompanied by a grand cavalcade of English and Norman nobles, towards Westminster, the English riding nearest to his person.

On reaching the west entrance of the Abbey, the Conqueror dismounted, and was received by the Archbishop of York and the clergy, who conducted him to his seat, near the high altar, where he of fered up his prayer, and made his offering of twenty marks of pure gold, in a basin and cover, to the church.

William had already been anointed, and was kneeling on the altar ready to receive the crownwhich, with the rest of the regalia, was lying on the altar-from the hands of the officiating prelate, when the latter advancing to the highest step, took the regal circlet in his hand. All expected that he would, without further ceremony, place it on the head of the new monarch; but the archbishop, who was a Saxon, not only by birth, but in heart, paused, and, turning to the English nobility, demanded if they were willing to receive William, Duke of Normandy, as their king? The loud, unanimous shout of assent which followed, made the vaulted roof of the abbey ring again. It was heard by the Norman troops stationed outside the building, and they began to murmur, fearful lest some violence had been offered to their leader and his countrymen.

Matilda seems on this occasion to have shown a more vindictive spirit than her husband. He had acted with something like generosity after the victory which placed the crown of England upon his brow; but his queen had no commiseration for her enemy. On retiring from the chapel, her first act was to write letters of congratulation to the Conqueror, in which The archbishop looked dissatisfied; most probably she reminded him of the oath he had sworn to her at he had expected that the Saxon peers would have Ostend the life and honors of any one of the van-made some stipulation, before giving their assent, for quished whom she might name. Awed, perhaps, by the the liberties of the conquered, and the well governing fate which had so signally followed the perjury of of the realm. Harold, the new monarch kept his oath.

66

'Now, father," said William, who began to feel

After a few moments' pause, during which the entire assembly, Normans and Saxons, waited anxiously for his reply, the Conqueror answered, in a loud voice : "I am ready to take the oath !?!

The archbishop swore him, accordingly, upon the Evangel, and having done so, without further hesitation completed the ceremony, by placing the crown upon his head. The tumultuous shout of those assembled in the church alarmed the Norman troops, who, suspecting treachery, began to use their weapons upon the crowd of Saxons, who were assembled in vast numbers around the neighbourhood of the abbey. In the midst of the confusion, the Saxons, as is generally supposed-although some writers have suggested that it was the work of the Normans-set fire to the houses and buildings near the abbey, which, being of wood, blazed rapidly. All was terror and suspicion within the sacred precincts; the nobles of each nation looked with doubt upon each other. The excitement could only be appeased by William, clad in his robes, and wearing his newly acquired crown, appearing before the troops. Once assured of the safety of their prince, the faithful Normans exerted themselves to extinguish the flames, which, at one time, threatened destruction to the entire building.

The patriotic conduct of Aldred, Archbishop of York, at the coronation of William the Conqueror, most probably gave rise to the resolution of that prince not to permit any native priest to succeed to the honors of the church; but to supply the different sees, as they fell vacant, with Normans. As we have seen, he had already promised the primacy of England to Lanfranc.

The politic resolution of excluding the Saxons from the prelacy was strictly carried out both by William and his immediate successors. Indeed, so eager was the former to rid himself of the native bishops and abbots, that he caused them to be deposed on the most frivolous pretexts, filling their places with his own countrymen.

A few days after his coronation, William received a messenger from his wife, who governed Normandy during his absence. The bearer of her missive was no other than Lanfranc, who had brought him the first token he had ever received from her. The conqueror shuddered as he recognised him, for he remembered

RUSSIAN SKETCHES.-NO. III.

CHURCH OF THE ASSUMPTION, MOSCOW.

monasteries. At one period they actually were so numerous, that in Moscow, previous to the invasion of Napoleon, there was one church for nearly every hundred of the inhabitants, including both women and children. This over-abundance the Emperor Alexander deemed a nuisance; and had those that stood in need of repairs pulled down, to the great scandal of the priesthood, who did not hesitate to ascribe the calamities of 1812 to this act of impiety.

states.

ception of relics of saints. The most valuable manu- within the Kremlin. Our illustration is the Cathedral scripts are those of the Sclavonic New Testament, of the Assumption, popularly called the Church of Ivan which date as far back as the eleventh and twelfth cen- the Cruel. This must have been an invention of the turies. Dr. Lyall was shown "a small parchment priests-for both the great Ivans were very distinRUSSIA is richly endowed with churches and volume, a good deal sullied, said to be the Gospel of St. guished men. Luke in his own handwriting." In what language and Ivan III. ascended the throne in 1462. He was surcharacter he does not state: perhaps the Sclavonic, named the Proud. This great Duke-being a Norman by descent, he clung to the title held in most veneration by his Scandinavian ancestors-was the first prince whose talents and good fortune imparted union, consistency, and independence to the Russian He united under his government the different principalities or appanages, and subdued Novogorod, which, during the internal troubles and the Tartar invasion and conquest of Russia, had achieved and preserved its independence. He also freed himself and country entirely from the yoke of the Tartars, and imposed a tribute on the kingdom of Cazan. He invited and encouraged foreigners of talent and information to settle in his territories. By one of them-Aristotle of Bologna-the money was re-coined, and gunpowder and the art of casting cannon were introduced.

The finest and most sacred edifice in the empire is the Cathedral of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary. It was built, in the reign of either Ivan III. or Ivan IV., on the site of the original edifice, and exhibits a splendid specimen of the Greco-Italian architecture of the fifteenth century. It is loaded with ornaments to an extravagant degree. Like the Greek worship, it is profuse In exterior adornments. On the walls are painted 249 full images, and 2066 halflengths and heads, many larger than nature. The quantity of gold leaf employed in embellishing it is said to have amounted to 210,000 leaves. Images gaudily adorned, splendidly gilt and ornamented holy books, massy gold crosses of beautiful workmanship, rich episcopal vestments-in short, every article that can impress the observer with a striking idea of the material magnificence of the Greek service, are here to be seen in the greatest profusion. In the middle of the church is suspended a crown of

massive silver, accompanied with forty-eight chandeliers, all of a single piece, and weighing nearly 3000 lbs. There are also numerous candlesticks, "almost as high as a man," some of silver, others of copper silvered, holding candles "thick as a man's leg."

He was assassinated A. D. 1505, after a reign of 43 years. Few Russian monarchs ever died in their beds.

The next sovereign by whom the territories of Russia were enlarged was Ivan IV., surnamed the Terrible. He began his reign 1533. He first taught this soldiers the use of firearms, and by means of these conquered the kingdoms of Cazan and Astrakan. Siberia was also annexed to Russia during his reign. He was not, however, merely a warlike prince; to him the Russians are in

न

also! There is a copy of the Evangelists, in Sela- debted for the first code of laws, and the introduction vonian, written by Tatiana Michailovna, daughter of of printing. He invited foreign artists to Moscow, enthe Czar Michail Phedorovitch. The sacred vessels are couraged commerce, and permitted the English to very numerous. Those for the preparation of the holy establish factories in his dominions. Before his time oil consist of two large silver kettles or boilers, gilt in-as the Russians had no ports except Archangel, The Cathedral of St. Michael ranks next to this in side, two feet and a half in diameter, which, together which, from its situation, was of no use to foreign splendor and dignity. It is venerated by the Russians with silver stirrers and ladles, were presented to the commerce their trade had altogether been in the as the place where their sovereigns were formerly in- holy synod by the Empress Catherine II. Between hands of the Livonians; but by the conquest of Astraterred; while the Cathedral of the Assumption is these boilers stands a large silver receiver, on the cover kan, the commerce of the Caspian Sea was opened to honored by being the place where they are crowned. of which is a representation of "Samuel anointing them; and by the temporary conquest of Narva, in The next church of importance is that of St. Philip, Saul." They weigh altogether upwards of 700 lbs. 1558, they were first introduced to our experience of which is distinguished as containing the patriarchal From the receiver the oil is emptied into sixteen the advantages they might derive from the possession treasury, the riches of which consist of manuscripts elegant silver vases, presented to the synod by the of ports in the Baltic. Ivan also encouraged religious and books, mitres and sacerdotal dresses and ornaments, Emperor Paul. The "holy oil" is only made once a toleration. vessels for the preparation of the holy oil, and the re- year, with great ceremonies. All these churches are

ANECDOTES OF DUELLING.

TH

HERE is a trait in Irish character which I have always conceived to be nationally chivalrous, and that is a general dislike to seek in courts of law, a monetary compensation for honor outraged through woman's folly. In England, reparation for loss of service is considered a thing as correctly reclaimable as loss of profit on a broken contract for a cargo of seal-oil or guano, while in the sister kingdom, in nine cases out of ten, the man who works upon the weakness of a wife, or trifles with the affections of a sister, is not subjected to the assessment of amount of injury by the computation of a jury, but summoned to give personal satisfaction in the field. Many a fatal case, recorded in the annals of Irish duelling, will tell how frequently profligate success has paid, in turn, a bloody penalty.

The happy couple," the paper added, "had gone to the inn-window, and thought her husband never looked
to spend the honeymoon."
so handsome as when, in turning the corner, he
In such frames of mind, and under such circum- smiled and kissed his hand. She gazed at the sun,
stances the cousins niet. Pemberton, in right of his sinking gloriously in the far west, and in a flood of
relationship, would have saluted his fair kinswoman; gold hiding his broad disc in the boundless waters of
but she drew her face away, and, looking contemptu- the Atlantic. Alas! she little dreamed, poor girl, that
ously at his short and shapeless person, coolly
observed—

"The moon that rose
And promised rapture in the close,"

Palm to palm must do, George; for, i' faith! you was fated to usher in a night, on whose deep, deep are too ugly even for a cousin to kiss! darkness a ray of hope should never break again.

"As handsome and as insolent as ever! Why, Harriette, I expected to have seen a willow wreath and pallid cheek. You bear your throw-over patiently." The lady's brows contracted, and she haughtily waved her hand.

66

Enough! no more of this. I know your business here. You want two hundred pounds, and my father will not advance as many pence, were it to save your neck, and not your commission."

Pemberton and his companion waylaid their intended victim; but R- felt himself too blessed with Lucy to risk aught that could interrupt his happiness. Against the imputed offence, he temperately remonstrated, and repudiated all intention of wounding the feelings of the lady, whose imaginary wrongs were made the basis to rest a quarrel on. A meeting he declined; at least until he could send for and consult a friend. From insolence, Pemberton Then I must send in my papers, and leave the proceeded to verbal, and at last to personal insult. R's was a brave and manly sprit. Good Heaven! to feel the ruffian's whip upon his shoulders, and not resent the outrage! His temper yielded; he longed to wipe disgrace away in blood. He urged delay no longer; demanded instant satisfaction; hurried into the inn garden, and, within ten minutes from the time he waved a passing-little did he fancy it a last -adieu, R was stretched, in death, upon the

"Unless some fool is found who will lend money to a gentleman, who, on six shillings a-day, keeps a pair of hunters!" observed the lady.

Pemberton looked sulky and displeased.

In caricaturing Milesian manners and feelings, it has been asserted that you could not look at a Cork-th." lady at a supper-table but she graciously murmured, "Port, if you please!"—or dance a second time with a man's sister, that he was not certain to drop in next morning, before you dressed, to inquire whether your intentions to the young lady were matrimonial. That a number of unhappy marriages have been effected by pistol-intervention, is too true: and I recollect one sad case where the love was on the lady's side, and a fine spirited and honorable young fellow, with all before him that could promise happiness, was suddenly removed from existence, ere the third week closed that followed as bright a union as could be fancied.

Rwas remarkably handsome, and these personal advantages were enhanced by the total unconsciousness that he possessed them. A young lady saw, loved—and, remembering what Viola's friend suffered from concealment, she saved the damask of her cheek, and intimated to the gentleman the state of her affections. In reply, poor R candidly confided his situation to the lady. He had wooed and won the only woman he loved, and the next Monday would bless him with her hand.

Harriette M- was handsome, self-willed, rich, and proud as Lucifer. R, in fortune, was her equal, but, in birth, a caste below The circumstances, however, that embittered her rejection-and if rejection be humiliating to a man, how fearfully must it agonize the woman who, perverting conventional usages, sues when she should be sought-supplicates what she should conceal, and is rejected?

"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman spurned."

And for whom had her hand and fortune been declined? The daughter of a village curate; rich in nothing but youth, and innocence, and beauty.

"Nay, George, on my conscience, thou art ill-
favored enough, without knitting those beetle-brows
together. I have the money. Would you earn it?"
"I would go to the devil," was the reply, rather bowling-green!
than quit the th from sheer poverty. What shall I
do?"

.6

She turned her dark and lightning eyes on his, and after a pause of half a minute, pointed with her finger to the paragraph which announced the hated marriage. Then, dropping her voice to an emphatic whisper, she laid her lips close to her kinsman's ear—

66

"Read!-Spoil me that honeymoon-the money's

thine!"

And without waiting a reply, she hurried to her own apartment.

What Lucy suffered may be readily conceived. Human misery could not go farther: in one sheer plunge, to reach, from the very pinnacle of mortal happiness, the darkest abyss of despair. The imagination must fill out what fancy cannot pencil. And how did she feel-she, that guilty woman, when

"The ruin that her rashness wrought "

was told her!"

Before her emissary had accomplished half his journey, Harriette's better feelings had regained Never did the arch-enemy of man select a better ascendency, and, when too late, she would have given agent than George Pemberton. To a currish temper, thousands to have recalled her hireling kinsman. In he united a sufficiency of animal courage to make him charity we will hope that her wounded pride sought dangerous; and secret influences, with which his vengeance short of destruction. Indeed, the effect of revengeful kinswoman was totally unacquainted, fitted the sad intelligence, when it arrived, would go far to him for the task. He knew that his retirement from a prove that such was the case. She was convulsed, regiment, officered by men of property, and to whom fevered, delirious for two months after, and recovered he had made himself obnoxious by the idle attempt of strength only by the loss of reason; and in a few veiling poverty under insolence, would be felt a years after closed her wretched existence in triumph. But deadlier feelings towards the husband asylum.

an

Malachi's duelling deductions-for the finale to the carcers of Messieurs Andrews and Pemberton, proved them correct to the letter. Both died violent but inglorious deaths.

of Lucy Meadows, urged him on to vengeance. He had I often called to memory the truth of Father
secretly, but passionately, loved her; and she had
neither tact nor prudence to conceal a personal dislike,
amounting to aversion. Keeping in the back-ground
the real causes which induced him to attempt the life
of one against whom he could plead no injury, an
alleged slight to his fair cousin would form "a very
pretty quarrel," and with a congenial spirit as demo-
niac as his own, he set off, without delay, to the
retired watering-place, where the handsomest and
happiest pair that Connaught could produce, were, in
their own belief, entering on an elysian existence.

The devil never prompts a delinquency, that he does not manage to supply a tool. George Pemberton was Harriette's kinsman, a lieutenant in the ―th, wretchedly poor, and his regiment an expensive one. His manners were assuming; and, with an empty purse, how many slights will an ill-tempered individual experience, should he have the misfortune of being gazetted to a crack corps? George Pemberton was returning, on leave between returns, to raise a small sum of money; or, failing, to sell out: and he found his cousin Harriette all alone, five minutes after the Chronicle had been received, detailing, in glowing language, the beauty of the bride, as being in per- It was evening. R fect keeping with that of the handsomest man who, answering congratulatory for years, had sworn conjugal allegiance at the altar. | with his billets to the post.

The barbarous punctilio of the times-provided a man could boast gentle lineage-almost probibited a refusal to his call for satisfaction, no matter how flimsy the pretext might be, under which he demanded a hostile meeting, and Pemberton availed himself of it.

had been engaged in letters, and had proceeded Lucy watched him from

Frank Andrews, some half dozen years after he had placed the house of Shivé-na-garrew in mourning, repaired to the metropolis on business. The evening he arrived in Dublin, he contrived to fasten a quarrel on a linendraper, whose sister he had insulted at the theatre, and hurried the devoted tradesman by the first dawn of day to "the fifteen acres," (a division of the Phoenix Park, where duels have been fought by the hundred.) The hour of retribution had comee-for a man whose hand never clasped before a deadlier implement than a cloth-yard, contrived to pop, par accident, a quarter of an ounce of lead into the pericardium of Mr. Francis Andrews.

Well, though he fell in the lap of honor, still, the artiste who sped him was a linendraper; that was certainly a sad drawback; but, if Mr. Andrews' exu

money, which he whom we both lament bequeathed me, was, months ago, transmitted to America, and there I sail to claim it."

"I need protection, William. That hardened wretch, he who robbed me of my husband, rode past my window yesterday.”

"He will never repeat the offence," returned Long William, calmly. "But time hurries forward, and

was not the thing, Mr. Pemberton's was even less that William took. There was no lodge, but Liaume distingué. Vaddagh was seen to gain admission by a key, and Never had homicide, by permission of Irish gentle-carefully lock the gate afterwards. The scene that men, promised more satisfactory results to its perpe- followed was thus described by one of the strangers. trator. The transmission of Harriette and her father On reaching the back entrance of the park, Mr. -the former to a madhouse, and the latter to a grave Pemberton unlocked the gate, and when he had again ---occurred within the month, and as heir-at-law, Mr. secured it, he turned to his guests, and bade them a George Pemberton succeeded to the management of courteous welcome. the estates and custody of the lunatic. Mr. Pember"This is the first time I have had the honor, gentle-upon a few minutes, with me, life and death may deton determined that during his life his fair cousin men, to receive you at Mount Hazle-may I hope it pend. Should the promised infant be a boy, give him should continue in seclusion, and fate gave a kind will not be the last!" The strangers bowed; while a this, as a dear memento," and he took a gun from bevoice that seemed an echo, repeated in hollow and neath his great coat, and laid it on the table. "Tell distinct tones "the last!" A gun exploded; Mr. Pem- him that a cross is filed deeply in the barrel that berton staggered and fell; the strangers' horses went sped—” off at speed; one rider managed to keep his saddle, while the other was roughly dismounted. The fallen horseman rolled into the ditch, and there, in mortal agony, he viewed the dénoùment of the tragedy.

consent.

It was a grey autumnal evening, when Pemberton, who had taken formal possession of his uncle's house, was carrying two strangers home to supper, whose acquaintance he had made that morning at the fair of -town. It may be here necessary to remark, that R- had a natural brother, to whom he had been generous and kind, and who had been often overheard

"Whom! in the name of heaven?" exclaimed the lady, in alarm.

"The slayer of his father! And now, farewell for ever!"

He fell upon his knees, caught the lady's hand in his, and covered it with kisses. A low shrill whistle

"It is the signal. May heaven bless and comfort you! Lady, farewell for ever!"

Before the words were heard distinctly, he vanished as he entered. All knew that the homicide of George Pemberton was Liaume Vaddagh, and, in a wild community

"With whom revenge is virtue,"

A tall man, wrapped in a frieze great-coat, stepped vowing eternal vengeance on the destroyer of his leisurely from the back of the hedge, and quietly apkinsman. He took his mother's name-was callca proached the body. He looked for a moment at the was heard beneath the window. William Halligan, but, by the country people, was glassy eye and bloodless lips. "One barrel did the better known by the sobriquet of Liaume Vaddagh, business!" he muttered, and laid the gun, in a slant(Long William). Eight months had elapsed since ing direction, across the corpse. Then taking a writRwas killed by Pemberton, and people began to ten paper from his pocket, he affixed it to the dead say that " George was safely seated in his saddle." man's breast. All was methodically done; a pin seTo this opinion others dissented. "Liaume Vaddagh," cured every corner of the placard, and these pins were before his kinsman's death, had been held in light placed carefully in the cuff of the murderer's cotamore. estimation. He drank freely, headed faction-fights, That done, he coolly reloaded the discharged barrel. and, more than once, had been hinted at in chapel as The stranger remarked that the gun had been prepared a gay deceiver. But a marvellous change since his for concealment and assassination, for the barrels had brother's death had come over this wild youth-been shortened by a foot. The murderer gazed on the whiskey never passed his lips-no inducement, at fair dead body for a minute, but his hand never approached or market, could rank him in a faction-fight,-his the pockets of his victim, except when he drew a gold youthful compeers declared he was bewitched, but watch from the fob, muttered it was "half-past seven," older men shook their heads, and hinted that Liaume and cautiously returned the time-piece. The murder Vaddagh, under a quiet exterior, was "fuller of mischief than a loaded blunderbuss." The old folks

were right, for "Long William" only bode his time, like the red Kirkpatrick, to "strike sicker."

Pemberton, although several monitory hints were given him, remained in false security and yet there were times that the altered habits of this wild young man, when coupled with his omnipresence in fair or market, or wherever else the place he frequented might be, went some length in creating suspicion in the mind of Pemberton. At the fair, on this day, he encountered "Long William" more than once, and so did others, who noticed to each other a change equally remarkable in his habits and appearance. Liaume Vaddagh had hitherto worn the deepest mourning, and avoided spirits as he would poison. On this day his sables were discarded, and he was gaily dressed; while, with his "inky" garments, his unsocial habits appeared to have departed. He drank deep to his brother's memory, mentioning that this was the birthday of the deceased.

One other circumstance requires a passing notice. Lucy had frequently requested that "Long William" would come to see her, aware how strong the attachment was which had existed between her murdered husband and his wild half-brother. To every invitation the same answer was gratefully returned-" He would dutifully wait upon her when his vow should be accomplished,"--what the vow was, none knew.

When evening came, and Mr. Pemberton had ordered his horse to the inn door, Liaume Vaddagh was seen, wrapped in his cotamore, riding briskly from the market-town. The distance to reach the principal entrance to the park, would require a détour of at least two miles, while a back gate opened upon the road

being done to his satisfaction, he led a horse into the
avenue, unlocked and refastened the gate, and rode off
leisurely. Half dead with fear, the stranger listened
to the retiring horse tramps, and crept cautiously from
the ditch. He shuddered as he looked at the body,
for, on the breast of the dead man, a paper, written in
bold characters, bore the single sentence of "BLOOD

FOR BLOOD!"

Lucy R, in widow's weeds, was sitting in her
drawing-room; the gloom of twilight accorded with
her" soul's sadness;" for the period was approaching
when a being, orphaned long before it saw the light.
was to claim a mother's care. Her past was frightful
to recall, her future fearful to look forward to. What
would she be were her hour of trial safely over? A
widowed mother at twenty! Wrapped in sombre me-
ditation, she did not hear the opening door, until,
moving across the light, a tall figure arrested her atten-
tion, when standing within two yards.

"Who are you?" demanded the startled mourner.
"William Halligan, lady, come to bid you an eter-
nal farewell!"

A deep low voice responded

"Brother of him in whom every feeling of this
young heart was centred, and ever will be, I give you
a widow's welcome. Sit down, William."
"Lady, I dare not, for time is precious."
"How often have I sent for you, William!"
"And think you, lady, that a whisper from you
would not have brought me here at midnight? Bound,
however, by a secret vow, I dared not see you, until I
came to-night to say farewell."

his memory is still handed down as one who did "the state some service." He sought the backwoods of the Illinois, led a hunter's life, and died in an Indian wigwam.

It is only necessary to add, that the family of the unscrupulous duellist have been extinct for thirty years, while the descendant of the victimized bridegroom is prosperous in worldly circumstances.

The circumstances under which I witnessed this fatal encounter were purely accidental. I had been stopping at the same inn where poor R was passing his honeymoon, and had often admired a couple, whom nature, it would seem, had created for each other. The evening when the wicked deed took place

for Pemberton's friend gave a false signal, and Rwas shot before he raised his pistol-I was in my bed-room, making a trifling change in my toilet, preparatory to an excursion along the cliffs, when, without the customary knock upon the door, in rushed

the chambermaid. !

"Sir! sir!" she exclaimed, in a voice of wild

alarm, "run down stairs, for God's sake! They are going to shoot the handsome gentleman!"

Before I could ask a question, or comprehend what the frightened girl meant, pop went a pistol in the garden. I jumped to the window-it overlooked the bowling-green-and there, upheld by the gardener and a boy, I saw a gentleman in the agonies of death. Half undressed, I hurried down stairs, and saw the two men mount their horses and ride coolly from the yard; and, on reaching the scene of action, found that with poor R-suffering was at an end, and life was extinct.

Thirty years after the sad event, I was marching a wing of the --d through Johnstown, where we were to halt for the night, when I received a visit from the squire, to invite me to dinner, and offer me a bed. Both were willingly accepted; for the village hostlerie was ill-kept and sadly over-crowded. On inquiry, I found that the gentleman to whose hospitality I was about to be indebted, was the son of poor R, whom I had seen shot at East Port; and, as the reminiscence "That heaven and accident only can decide. The might be unpleasant, I kept it to myself. I was most

"Where are you going, William ?"