effectually to his wishes, he greeable intelligence of the apparently under the sign who had confessed him, duhow he had fallen sick at a s passing through;-how he how he had died in peace vards. This account of his been induced to furnish at uty he had discharged after id how happy that she was tind of engagement! Of this soon assured by the manner ger difficult to perceive that nstrained demeanour, had tually than, in such circum could have done. The cold died away; he began to as ry day they grew more and o each other; and Adeline er pleasure han she did to ted the happy pair from the pearance; and the afternoon The sound of a carriage was art pace up the street, and it or. "Ha!" cried the good Lady, but he drives briskly owards the door; it opened; company, in rushed the den sword in his hand, which gesture at Clermont: "Up, me cried; at the same time groom with a firm grasp out terrified at his ghastly apquite assured that it was with the assistance of his unlucky bridegroom into with him, before any body enses to think of a rescue. ance from the city, Victor alt, and bursting into a loud there are now two knaves must not pull out the other's ase in hanging ourselves, if le, for what we have done. arises from the most disin ou a great deal of plague: to bring me tidings of Al that he is actually in Paris, upon you like a thunder e and you to his fury. We in the world for keeping half-witted from the effect being fattened, during the e chief's table." men," exclaimed Clermont, must have as many lives wait patiently till the affair seek some safe retreat, in ear a sea port, in case the and proceed to extremities e of lies, invented by Vic rom being in Paris, Alson his voyage home, and was 1. Having given out that umed name, Victor, after ned; and kept a watchful order more effectually to rival completely into his ept the hand of Adeline; manner that has just been the snare; and no longer Poor M. Molinet started back several yards at one Lound, raised up his hands in perfect wonder; and then cham. "For SEVEN MARRIAGES. Just at this moment one of Adeline's maids came ru ning, to say that her young mistress had fallen into fi She had heard the uproar; and insisted upon being i stantly attired, in order to arrive in time to prevent an fatal consequences-having already lost two husband who had fallen a sacrifice to their mutual fury; but sus was the tumult of her emotions, that she fainted in t bridemaid's arms. Greatly concerned at this event, the cripple bridegroo observed, that had he not unluckily been so shabbi dressed, and altogether cut so dismal and forbidding figure, with the patches on his wounds, and his woode leg-which might perhaps frighten her into fits again she was recovering nothing should keep him from h presence. "Besides my crutch makes such a plaguy lou noise in walking, she might imagine some kobold or hous goblin was coming into her chamber. Such things sh must get used to by degrees; so my good girl, I must b content with thy recommending me most affectionately thy sweet mistress, and here is my father-in-law will g along with you." Poor M. Molinet, quite puzzled what to think or wha to do, suffered himselt to be led, like a man walking in h sleep, into his daughter's chamber; while his son-in-la walked another way into his own. At this moment, the Baron's servants having packed u his wardrobe, and brought the coach, he was heard givin his orders respecting these two most important and favour ite subjects of his thoughts; and then he rattled off alon the pavement; in all the offended. yet newly recovered, dis nity of his ancient house. Adeline, on her side, again passed a lonely night, on th very day of her foarth nuptials; besides being half fright ened to death. On the morrow of this eventful evening, M. Molinet' household was early in motion. The good host himsel began at length to console himself with the idea, that eve a wooden-legged son-in-law was preferable to none, an hastened down stairs with a fixed determination to wel come him in a hearty and hospitable style. The latter however seemed to think more of a good night's rest, tha rising at an early hour to reclaim the hand of his beautifu betrothed. The clock had already struck nine: breakfas was waiting; yet the sluggard showed no signs of appear ance. He had not even rung his bell; and the old mer chant, beginning to feel impatient for his first meal, waiter and grumbled; until, declaring that he must be one of the distracted father of so many sons, pacing backwards and forwards, and looking ruefully up the staircase, to see whether they would ever come. Baron Marly first made his appearance, attired in a rich and elegant undress; looking as proud and glorious as Mars himself, just before he was caught with the lovely wife of ugly limping Vulcan who could scarcely have cut a more sorry figure than the one-legged man now did. The Baron could not help smiling at the stranger, as he said: "What are your commands with me, father? I was just this moment retiring for the night." "But I will take care that you never shall," cried the lame man; at the same time striking his crutch in most threatening style upon the ground. "Is the fellow out of his senses?" returned the Baron, with a glance of contempt. Poor M. Molinet was now quite beside himself. He trembled sadly, at the necessity he was under of introducing the gentlemen to one another, on this occasion. He did it, but it was with a very ill grace. "Fine doings, indeed!" exclaimed the crutchman, again stamping his wooden leg, more fiercely than before, upon the ground. "It is lucky, however, that I am arrived in time to prevent this Baron from casting a stain upon my honour, and that of my family. You will please, father, to show him to the very farthest chamber from my wife's and mine, that you can find in the house; I shall keep strict watch on the outside." At these words, Baron Marly instantly mounted his high horse of noble blood, and replied, with an air of disdain: "Night watches, my good fellow, do not seem very well adapted to your present crippled condition, and 1 will spare you that trouble. As matters turn out, you are quite welcome to your first bargain, with all the manorial rights and appurtenances thereto belonging. In fact, I shall be happy to make the transfer; by which you will help me to untie a knot, which I was beginning to fear might chance to be tied too tight. For my part, I am a friend to freedoni; and there are some of my relations at court, who will not be sorry to hear of what has happened, for truly I have had very little peace since my alliance with this very worthy family, because they imagined that henceforward I was about to unite myself with that less shining, but useful class of honest citizens. They so lemnly declared that my marriage had raised an eternal barrier between me and them; between the city and the court; and that they knew how to respect their own sta-seven sleepers, he ordered one of the servants to knock tion, if I did not. This was a sad blow in the face of my escutcheon: and I should, doubtless, soon have died of mortification, had not this lucky incident restored me to my injured nobility and pride. This somewhat consoles me for the personal loss of a lady, for whom I entertained the greatest tenderness and esteem. But I am no senti: mental worshipper of sighs and tears. I entreat you, therefore, my dear M. Molinet, to break this little matter to your daughter-to present her with my parting regards, and wish her all happiness and good fortune. So farewell, gentlemen; if you have any commands to Paris, I shall feel most happy to be the bearer. There I shall take out a formal divorce, and so the matter rests." With an air of lordly nonchalance, he turned upon his heel, and left his father-in-law, lost in astonishment at the strange situation in which he stood. and to knock hard, at his door; for it was now near elever o'clock, and the old gentleman, in momentary dread of ar attack of his spasms, was fast helping himself to whateve came nearest to him. Before he had half done, however the lacquey came to inform him that he had knocked re peatedly at the lame gentleman's door, but had receive no answer. His master shook his head wistfully, and, ordering the servant to walk first, followed him up stairs, and bade hin enter the room; not liking the risk of receiving any farthe shock, added to that of the former fright. So he stationed bimself at the head of the stairs, and called out to the man, from time to time, "Now, John, i he asleep?" "No, Sir!" "Is he awake?" "No, Sir!" "What, is he dead, then?" "Oh no, Sir, he is only gont -at least I cannot find him." " "Gone!" repeated the mer chant advancing a little more boldly, "What, crutch, and leg, and all?" "No, Sir; his leg is here; only it is nothing but a cork!" "Nothing but a cork," repeated the old merchant, "then I dare say he must have a stock of them and it is that, perhaps, which makes him so light a foot The scoundrel:-the base deserter! to think of running away from his own wife and father, the very morning af ter returning to them. Surely 1 am bewitched, or this is all a dream. It cannot be: I am perhaps too hard upon him to suspect him; he has, perhaps, only got up in the night, and gone into the garden: and then been unable to find his way back into the right room. Do you run inte the garden, John, and I will examine the other bed-rooms: he must be somewhere he cannot be gone: call Adeline. call all the women, and the men, and the children, about the place; bid them look sharp every where he cannot "Nay, let the nimble puppy run," cried the man with the crutch; "and cheer ap, old gentleman, you see you have got me quite safe; I wish I could add quite sound; but any how safe home again. True, I am a bit of a cripple-but what of that?-I am none of your noble impostors-1 am Alson, your honourable son-in-law. I hope Adeline will not think the worse of me; though, I confess I do not much relish the thought of our first interview: better perhaps to put it off until tomorrow. You will thus have time to reconcile her to the change of partners; bur, as you seem rather weary and nervous, you had bet ter yourself retire to rest, and let me, likewise, be shown to a chamber. To-morrow i will amuse Adeline and you with some account of my adventures in America. You will be much astonished, if not entertained; but for tonight, dear father, not a word more-let us get a little rest." M. Molinet, like one half moon-stricken, tottered out of be gone." the room; he replied not a word; and his son was obliged to shake him well by the shoulders and stamp his wooden There was soon a general muster; and the house was searched from top to bottom; but he was neither in the just then came hob | no St. George, and feel no inclination to run a tilt with the but he said nothing met despatched a mes nswering the porter's veeping in her cham ad borne her strange The sweet temper and o much. There was tears and sighs were son-he was her first with grief, on learning witnessing her grief, full of perplexing of proceeding, to his er, shall not be left in with be introduced be here follows: In the ed, that these two arch Clermont, were still ar too interested and the criminal law any another's brains out; , for persons of their eit, M. Molinet, in re far from the place of ecret as possible; no an from that of being rted their military du from this spot, to ob et, their father-in-law, at all subsided. acted like poison upon s; and not venturing, reak them upon each other person availing ey had forfeited them ed upon a wily young mbled Alson, and who equipping him in the stratagem turned out arly forwarded a copy me latter became aware I been practised upon The subsequent confes mself. Still he did not net, supposing them to loss than ever what to lined to make no far lottery; while her fa finding a real and bona gan to make their ap peace, until she agreed time, in the person of ced to take place at a nging to the new bride- to settle to rest, when, to be in flames. The lapsed, when a courier and after M. Molinet tore this precious epistle in a great rage; then ordered his carriage to the door, and taking his daughter along with him, ordered them to drive quick towards Paris. He left a letter behind him for his son-in-law, summoning him to appear and answer for his conduct; but this he never did; and consequently the marriage was annulled. But, in the course of this affair, an aged advocate became so deeply smitten with Adeline's charms, as to be quite unable to devote himself longer to his profession, without his fair client's consent and assistance. The lady, however, would certainly have refused it, had not her father, an old friend of the lawyer's, kindly stepped in to second the plea; and she was, at last, overpersuaded to yield her hand. This time the ceremony was performed in as private a manner as possible. Only a few persons were aware that it was about to take place, and the domestics were in perfect ignorance of it until all was concluded. The suppertable had been removed, and the happy old bridegroom was just thinking of moving after it, when the waiter entered, and announced the Marquis Gilles! What a thunder-bolt of surprise for the whole party! M. Molinet alone had presence of mind to cry out: "Let the Marquis go to the Devil! tell him we have nothing to say to each other." But the noble Marquis was already in the room: "First, my dear father," he said, "do me the justice to hear my defence, and send me there afterwards. On the eventful night of my marriage, I was seized by robbers in my own court, and kidnapped blindfolded into a carriage, which proceeded the whole night. When it stopped, I was conducted into a place up steps, and down steps, until they took the bandage from my eyes;-of very little service to me, in a dark room, with iron door and windows. Here the villains compelled me, by dint of threatening my life, to indite that false and wicked epistle to my beloved Adeline, but which procured me better treatment, and, perhaps, saved my life. Shortly afterwards they promised to release me, which they only did, however, within these last few hours. Yesterday they again blindfolded me; brought me out of the labyrinth; and conveyed me in a carriage to this very neighbourhood. Bidding me alight in some fields, they said to me: "That is your road to Paris: put your best foot foremost, and try to reach it before nightfall; for your young bride is celebrating her nuptials to-day with an old Parliament Advocate. So make haste, or you will have no chance of avoiding the honours that are in store for you." They then directed me to this house; and, before I had time to recover from my astonishment, they dragged me out of the carriage, and drove me with bitter mocks and gibings from their presence." "A fine romantic history," exclaimed the old Advocate; " but, my Lord Marquis, who will bear witness to all this? Besides, if you could, what would that help you? Your former marriage with my present bride, Sir, has been formally revoked, rescinded, cancelled, and annulled." "I know nothing of your quirks of law; and I should be a fool to contend with you; I will put it into the hands of some skilful expounder of justice like yourself. My present object in coming here, is loudly to protest, once for all, against your presuming to usurp my place; for I neither can nor will listen to it." "Good," replied the Advocate; "and that you likewise shall not venture to sport upon my manor, Marquis, I hereby appeal to the sovereign fount of justice, to his Majesty the King." "A most servile appeal;" exclaimed the Marquis. "And, moreover," continued the lawyer, "my wife shall be entrusted, as a sacred deposit, until the decision of the case, into the hands of her father. I will soon get your bill of divorce confirmed." The noble Marquis expressed himself satisfied with these terms. Both the litigants then took leave of their father-in-law, and left his house in company with his other guests. The poor merchant, in the bitterness of his feelings, pronounced his malediction upon the whole tribe of suitors, sons-in-law, and husbands in the world. He had not the least idea, however, that two of them had set fire third and also abducted the unfor Forma "I am an unfortunate being," murmured the "betrayed by false friends; don't you recogniz "No, Sir," said M. Molinet; as the wedded hurrying him up the steps; "I know nobody no "What," replied the stranger, " have my long so completely metamorphosed me? Are you to ne, Adeline? not recognised by my own first and only love, I am Alson!" "Just Heavens!" cried the bride," surely the "Away with you!" exclaimed M. Molinet;" ten to him, girl! he is only an impostor. Take my dear son-in-law, and follow my advice." A time, M. Molinet pushed the young Hussar and ter before him into the house. The stranger here clapped his hand upon his confronting his rival:-" Not a step farther, on Sir. Would you be guilty of eloping with my v my eyes?" With enraged looks, the Hussar drew his br but Adeline arrested his arm. "No bloodshed," with entreating accents, "for that man is Alson. and best beloved! my eye indeed can scarcely you, but my heart speaks the truth 100 feelingly Yet I have already been so vilely deceived in th that I am become suspicious of every one; Im fore, insist upon receiving still more positive prod existence, than your mere appearance will a deem it want of affection that dictates our separ the period when these can be adduced. Believ dulge not the least suspicion; but I owe thus m own character, and to the world. When once I enough to be pronounced yours, lawfully yo most joyfully give you my hand, and live and di alone."" Adeline then retired weeping into her cham young Hussar left the place with a bitter curs Molinet, with his eyes fixed in mute and perplex upon the features of Alson, after some cogitatin ing with himself, at length reached out his har "The longer I puzzle myself with your face a the more I seem to recollect somebody very but I think it must have been in some other w that, however, as it may, you are heartily wel boy; my poor son Alson: and forgive me for so rude a reception, and for having you sent, so your n marriage, abroad. I had no idea you won long." Alson, for in fact it was no one else, had no ordeal to undergo, before he succeeded in es proofs of his identity. Wherever he appeared, a blance between him and his former self became more apparent, on slight examination. The strange history of his capture and his s adventures, and final release, are reserved for Adeline; and would, perhaps, appear tedious else. By her he was received with unaffected t and they had the pleasure of being twice mari other, the old gentleman insisting upon a repeti ceremony after so long an absence; and it was real marriage out of seven, or rather eight. They were now truly happy and blest with e society; and had not the poor broken-down so about a month after the ceremony, their happin have continued much longer. Adeline lamented true widow's tears; yet, after wearing her wee being of a somewhat volatile and easy tempe fered the handsome young Hussar to come away her tears. She consented to become his, as usual, at h request; and she was too sweet-tempered and g to have resisted the request of any one who be kindly. They lived very happily together,-1 had wed seven husbands in about the space of s and she spent about half a century with her las How terrible is passion! how our reason Falls down before it! whilst the tortured f Like a ship dashed by fierce encountering And of her pilot spoiled, drives round and The sport of wind and wave.-BARFORD. THE DAYS OF YOUTH. Written for the Casket. THE DAYS OF YOUTH. An! well do I remember when Life seemed as bright as evening skies, While thro the glittering glade and glen grasp'd at pleasure's butterflies. My path was strown with sweetest flowers; Comes boyhood with his laughing glee. The pranks of boyhood, and renew The scenes long past, when-'twas a rule- It should be witness 'gainst the pest. Each face is now before my view. As I beheld it there; Each boy, and desk, and master too, The fairy one by whom I sat, Thro' all the afternoon to chat And laugh the idle hours away. At all 'twas said, or we could say; While Tom, and Jack, and Bill were tussling, And Jo-h and Harry tap'd the hat- Striving to cross the pins that there lay, But where are all the youths I knew, Are melancholy men. Some who were once of wealthy race, Have now grown poor, nor longer grace The station which they once might fill A lot of all severest still. And some who once I saw in rags, Now boast of birth and money bags: Some have done right and some done wrong, And seme are now the sons of song, Singing away like Musa's parrot, In some lone elevated garret. But few remain of all I knew; Where are the little damsels gay, Tho' young in years, and younger still 23 MILFORD BARD. |