deep as it appeared; she endeavoured to wade through it, but, in her agitation she slipped, and was carried by the force of the swollen waters some yards beyond the place she wanted to land at; some friendly bushes, which she caught hold of, saved her from that death which she had just contemplated; with difficulty she gained the bank, and proceeded on, stimulated by the fresh hopes her last thoughts had conjured up. Half-an-hour brought her in sight of the place. It was a spot fit for its unhappy, miserable inhabitant, situated in a lonely and unfrequented part, seldom visited, and then only for similar purposes that Nourka had come for. The ignorant and superstitious slave population avoided it; even the runaway slaves seldom came within its limits. It had been the residence of a famed obiah man, who, in his dying hour, pronounced a curse on the place, and whosoever resided in it. Nourka approached the entrance with silent and terrified steps. The way to the cave was underground, dark, damp, often the abode of loathsome insects. She listened with ears bent on the ground, for she dared not enter if the woman was within, unless called,—but could not distinguish any breathing. She stamped gently, so that if any one was within they might hear her, but all remained quiet. "Moder," she said, "em Nourka brart some tings, - do em sarvice." Still no one replied. The girl did not like, or dare to return, without the accomplishment of her purpose, for it would be a bad omen, and a symbol of failure; so, emboldened by despair, Nourka assumed sufficient courage and resolution to enter into the interior of the cavern. There was not anything to alarm or daunt her. The place was dry, and more comfortable than the exterior denoted. Another smaller cave was at the extremity. She approached it; her quick ear distinguished a low breathing. There was the female Nourka had come to see and propitiate. She was kneeling before a large crucifix. Though her eyes were constantly wandering, and often fixed on Nourka, she neither moved nor made any signs that she recognised the girl. This lasted for more than two hours. Meantime the trembling Nourka durst not speak or retire, but remained looking on. At length the woman moved. As I cannot convey her pronunciation, for she spoke in a dialect of mixed and broken Spanish, English, Creole, and Negro, I adopt the ordinary language. "Sixty years," she began, "sixty long dreary years have fled, and I am still alive. I, who desired, and wished, and prayed all that time, every day, still exist. A broken heart cannot die; the time has past, but how, I cannot tell. It is a dream, and yet all dreadful reality. He is dead, rotten, mouldered; and I, that ought to have died sixty years ago, am still alive in body." She stopped and embraced the crucifix. Nourka seized the opportunity to speak. "Me, gud mother, brart prasens." "Who is this?" shrieked the female, (who was the same Charles N. S. VOL. X. F had encountered.) "Do not all men know it is the anniversary of the fatal night of my crime and folly. The innocent and the guilty will pay the penalty for this intrusion. Speak, slave!-who are you?Your errand-your request-your name?" "Nourka," answered the terrified girl. - "You have been here before, girl," continued the female" why come again? Didn't I warn you, and bid you beware? Ye all come to me for what? Have I not repeatedly told all of ye, long before you were born, child, that I have no charms? Mine are faded long ago, sixty years ago, girl." Here the poor creature laughed. "Moder," began poor Nourka, "me lub Massa——” "Holy Virgin!" shrieked the female, with the fury of a maniac."Who is the fatal wretch that has pronounced that word on this night? Love-struck, are you! Rather go and sleep in the full moon, and let her death-beams strike you. Expose your bosom to the fangs of the deadly snake, and linger with its venom in your frame for years. You will be happier. Wring love out of your heart. Tear it out! If you cannot, pour out your heart's blood." "Em canno do eider, gud moder," replied Nourka, "but him Massa hab cast Nourka out ob his "Ha! that is it! Wronged, mocked, reviled, and then deserted. I cannot aid you, girl," replied the woman. 66 "Him lub anoder; but Massa Charles no bar to Nourka-—” Charles," said the female, in a milder tone, "I remember something about him. You do not come to me for charms to kill him?" No, moder," answered Nourka, bursting into tears. "Me lub him too mush for that. Em want someting to get em lub back to poor Nourka. Moder can do ebery ting." 66 "Love potion to retain or reclaim your deserter is what you want," asked the old woman. دو "dat em name - lub The earnestness of the girl seemed to interest the old woman; she appeared calmer, mused, talking to herself. "Poor simple girl!—yet not more so than others to think I can soften the hard heart of a deceiver. They believe I have means and powers to satisfy all their wishes, and always apply to me in the extremities, poor deluded, ignorant creatures! I will satisfy this simpleton as I have done hundreds, and give her something that cannot harm." She went to a niche in the wall, and began to search. Suddenly her calmness left her, as she took hold of a small bottle. "That is the drug!" exclaimed the old woman, in a tone that made Nourka start with amaze and fright; "that is the deadly poison which I got years ago. I thought I had destroyed it long, long since. It brings lingering, yet certain death to whoever takes it. There, witness of my evil intentions, thus I cast you from me!" So saying, she threw the bottle from her with violent gestures, then sat down, forgetful of Nourka and all around her. An oriental sage asserts that mankind is constantly attended by a good and evil spirit, and that the latter always takes advantage of the absence of the former, (who is compelled to be absent one minute in the year, to render up his account to the prophet), to introduce wicked thoughts; and he warns all true believers to be constantly on the watch, and ever on their guard, for they do not know (such being the divine will) the exact moment their good guardian is absent. The moral, though cloaked under an eastern figure, is evident. Nourka's heart throbbed violently when she saw the woman go for the purpose of getting what she so ardently desired. Her hopes would be fulfilled; her lover, charmed, must return! She listened with all that intensity which one, who believed in the supernatural powers of the female, could be supposed to do. She saw the sudden change, heard the exclamations. Her hopes were fled. No, they were not! A sudden thought entered poor Nourka's mind; the fatal bottle-it lay at her feet. Nourka looked at the old woman; she sat coiled up, immersed in thought, muttering, looking with vacant stare on the girl, and moving her hands as if desirous of her absence. Presently she bent her head. Nourka seized the opportunity, stooped down, picked up the bottle, and then fled. Nourka's resolution being taken, she followed it with steadiness and firmness; obtained an interview with Charles, and finding him cold to all her blandishments, and firm in his purpose of a final separation, she expressed her readiness to comply with his wishes, and accept Jacob, on certain conditions, one of which was that she should not be forced to marry until Charles did. Glad of this unexpected change, and fearful she would alter her humour, Charles agreed to all her requests, and engaged to perform all his promises. Nourka exerted all her art, and soon obtained unbounded influence over poor Jacob, made him administer to Emily, at different times, small doses, which she gave him out of the bottle she had carried off from the cave, binding him by the most solemn oaths, and promises of her future love, not to divulge it to his master or any other person, assuring the ignorant and credulous fellow, that it was only to strengthen the young lady's love for his master. At that period, many believed in the efficacy of such like charms, and even at the present time it is often credited; so the poor man easily yielded, and thought he was rendering his master an essential service. When Charles heard my relation of the conversation I had overheard between Nourka and Jacob, he was panic-struck. The jealousy of the coloured women was proverbial; and if reports told truth, many a fair European lady had fallen secret victims to their machinations, excited by the deceptions practised on them by European men. He thought on the unaccountable illness of his cousin, sought Jacob, from whom he could not obtain any certain satisfaction, unless in the presence of Nourka. They set out for the cottage, and found her within. Charles's influence was ineffectual. "If Massa Charles be here afore dem sun morrow morn, Nourka confess all." He was obliged to be content. When he came with Jacob in the morning, Nourka had left. It was not till late in the evening that they could obtain any tidings of her. A negro had met her near the cavern of the old woman. They hastened thither, entered, and found the deluded girl in the agonies of death, lying in the lap of the old female. The entrance of Charles roused her; she attempted to rise, but could not. "Tanks, dat em see Massa-Nourka soon be wid her own-Massa Charles, him not hate Nourka, one little now." Charles could not refrain, but took her hand. She looked at him, -a smile was on her face; ere Charles could put the questions he desired, Nourka was dead. The old woman was a silent spectator during this short scene; she laid the body down with care; her manner was sad and solemn. "Charles," she said, "my hour approaches. It matters not what I have been, or who I am, of the crime of murder I stand guiltless. Yet I am the innocent cause of this unhappy girl's untimely death, and that of the young maiden you were betrothed to. The instrument was the poison I had prepared for myself years ago; but this” (taking hold of a crucifix) "saved me. Thus, you see, our crimes produce the like in others, and make them instrumental to the destruction of the innocent. Neither are you blameless. Go home, repent, amend your ways. Bury the corpse of this unhappy creature in this cave, and when I am summoned, lay me beside her. Now, I wish you to retire." Why should I describe the interview of the lovers-Charles's sorrow and repentance-Emily's resignation and soothings? Why dwell on the sufferings, or depict the death-bed scene of one who had passed a spotless life, who was carried to her earthly tenement amidst the sobs and tears of hundreds ?-whose last prayer was entwined with an earnest entreaty to her Great Judge for the pardon of the miserable girl who had fallen a victim to unruly passions. Such scenes have been described in a thousand different ways, under every variety of circumstances. Precepts, advice, exhortations, have been sent forth in every possible form; and yet, where opportunities like this offer, mankind rush headlong on, the slaves of passion, unmindful of the past, careless of the present, and almost indifferent to the future. Such, doubtless, they will continue to do, until the accomplishment of the will, and the fulfilment of the promise of our Great Creator. Shortly after this event, the disconsolate parent disposed of his estates, enfranchised such of his slaves as desired it, made provision for the aged and infirm, and then retired to his native land, regretted by his friends and domestics. His nephew Charles accompanied him, attended by the sorrowing Jacob. Neither of them married. Charles was well known in a certain town in Europe as the charitable and generous bachelor, and his faithful sable attendant as the sedate one. THE DARK MINSTREL. BY A. STEINMETZ. "QUENCH! quench the fire of that beaming eye!" Thus spake, at the natal hour, The spirit that swayed her dread destiny, "But light in her soul affection's flame, To burn for ever there!" A seraph heard and obedient came He dwelt in that heart; and his heavenly fire, Brought down from the angels' eternal quire |