[Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1836, by HARPER & BROTHERS,

in the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New-York.]

ENOX LIBRARY

NEW YORK

GEORGE BALCOM BE.

CHAPTER I.

""Tis night; and from the empyrean the bright moon
Fitfully glances through the clefts, that part
The snowy radiance of the rifted clouds,

Piercing, like glimpses of eternity,

The vaults blue depths, as if to sound the abyss
Of space unfathomable."

At length, issuing from the wood, I entered a prairie, more beautiful than any I had yet seen. The surface, gently undulating, presented innumerable swells, on which the eye might rest with pleasure. Many of these were capped with clumps and groves of trees, thus interrupting the dull uniformity which generally wearies the traveller in these vast expanses. I gazed around for a moment with delight; but soon found leisure to observe that my road had become alarmingly indistinct. It is easy, indeed, to follow the faintest trace through a prairie. The beaten track, however narrow, wears a peculiar aspect, which makes

it distinguishable even at a distance. But the name of Arlington, the place of my destination, denoted at least a village; while the tedious path which I was travelling seemed more like to terminate in the midst of the prairie, than to lead to a public haunt of men. I feared I had missed my way, and looked eagerly ahead for some traveller, who might set me right, if astray. But I looked in vain. The prairie lay before me, a wide waste, without one moving object. The sun had just gone down; and as my horse, enlivened by the shade and the freshness of evening, seemed to recover his mettle, I determined to push on to such termination as my path might lead to.

At this moment, a shout from behind reached my ear. I turned, and saw a man on horseback, standing between me and the sky, on the top of the east swell. Though a quarter of a mile off, his figure stood out in such distinct relief, that every limb was conspicuous, and well defined on the bright background. He was stationary, standing erect in his stirrups, and twisted around, so that his back and his horse's head were both towards After repeating a shout, which I found was a call to a dog, he put his horse in motion, and advanced at a brisk trot.

me.

I was now in no hurry, and he soon overtook me. Touching his hat, he was passing on at a gait too rapid for my jaded horse, when I accosted him. He drew up immediately, and again erecting himself on the wooden stirrups of his Spanish

saddle, and resting his left hand on the pommel and the right on the cantle, brought his horse to a walk, and faced half round towards me.

I asked if I was on the road to Arlington, and was answered in the affirmative. The distance? "Some eight miles."

"I hope," said I," the road grows plainer, or I shall hardly find it in the night."

"You will have no difficulty," said he; "your horse will keep it instinctively, as there is no fork in the road. Besides, I am going nearly to the place, and as the evening is pleasant, I will accommodate the gait of my horse to the weariness of yours."

I made due acknowledgments for this unlookedfor courtesy, which, however, surprised me less, than a turn of expression, so little in keeping with the stranger's appearance. At this moment his dogs came up-two beautiful greyhounds; one jet black, the other spotless white. He stopped his horse, spoke first reproachfully, and then kindly to them; and as the white dog reared up to his knee, patted his head, saying, in a tender tone, "My poor fellow! my poor dog! my poor Gryphon!"

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Gryfin !" thought I. "This fellow, now, is an illiterate clown, who has seen the word griffin somewhere, and has given the name to his dog, without knowing how to pronounce it. He is no better than he looks to be, after all; though his

words and tone are those of a cultivated and wellbred man, he is no better than he looks to be."

And truly this was not saying much for him. I could not distinguish his features by the waning light, but saw that he was a tall, spare man, in his shirt sleeves, without a cravat, and with a broadbrimmed straw hat, turned up behind and down before. A shirt, white enough at the bosom, a shabby, half-worn Marseilles waistcoat, trousers of country linen, and a pair of old slip-shod pumps, constituted his dress. He rode a large, highformed, and apparently high-bred mare, of fine action, but long tailed, bare footed, and in low order, that seemed as much at cross purposes with herself as did her rider.

We moved slowly, and in silence. I had no doubt my companion, after the fashion of the country, would soon begin to question me; and, as I had some curiosity concerning him, I was prepared to be civil and communicative. But I was disappointed. My name, my residence, my journey and its object, seemed to be quite indifferent to him. It appeared as if the first glance had told him all he wanted to know, and he scarce looked at me again. I determined to begin.

"You have a beautiful country," said I.

"Yes," he replied; "and there are few scenes more beautiful than that which the darkness is beginning to hide from your eye.”

"But the night itself is beautiful; and the moon will shine almost as bright as day.”