fled. As, however, the lovers were aware that their stratagem must speedily be discovered, they determined to get united in wedlock at all risks. This was no difficult matter, happening to be in Paris at the time. Father Bernardo was an orthodox son of the church, to appearance at least. Lean and sallow abstinence had long been a foreigner to his cell at Montmartre. If a young noble demanded a secret union with his mistress according to the rites of the holy church, the good man was ever ready to tie the knot, for proper considerations, with which he never dispensed. Now and then the recesses of his sojourn concealed a light offender against the laws; for who would dream of searching there for a criminal? it would have been an insult to religion itself! Thither hied our lovers on tiptoe with palpitating hearts. Before the crucifix, in the cold stone cell, knelt the fond pair; behind it was a small door which led to a little room some six feet square; (there father Bernardo kept his potables and various comforts for the edification of the internal man); the service was nearly concluded—when a feeble voice, strengthened somewhat by rage, screamed out "Bernardo !" and in a moment, just behind the crucifix, up rose the wigless head of Count D'Arcy! the wig had dropped off during his hitherto stifled passion; the black from his eyebrows streamed down and mingled with the rouge on his cheek. Regardless at first of his concealed situation, he forbade the conclusion of the service. It had proceeded too far to make what remained unrecited of any consequence. Fear mingled with his anger when he recollected that he had disclosed his place of concealment to his rival. The intercession of Bernardo, however, produced an agreement, written and witnessed by himself, to the effect, that in consideration of the non-disclosure of his hiding place, he should resign all pretensions to Isabelle, to which he the more willingly acceded as the recent ceremony made an opposite line of conduct of no avail. The Chevalier and Isabelle presented themselves to her father, who was soon reconciled; while the trick played off on the old coxcomb D'Arcy even now furnishes a joke to the good people of Blois in their proverb "toothless dogs should chuse old mates." that C.R. THE HIGHLAND HUNTER'S CORONACH. BY JOHN GIBSON, ESQ. I'LL wake it no more By Strath-Fillan's blue fountain, Or Benledi's high mountain — Of the hunter's bold bugle; How oft has that horn To the chase hailed his coming, At the first break of morn, Ere the bee raised its humming; Ere the maid, blithe of mood, To the ewe-bught was wending, - With the dew-drops was bending. H 74 HIGHLAND HUNTER'S CORONACH. When the fox from the shade Of the pine-wood was peeping; From the sun-rise was flying; Then - oh, then the far cry How it startled the eagle! Ay! now may his hounds The proud pibroch may blow, But its note shall not cheer him O'er his breast the brown roe May leap wild and not fear him! I'll wake it no more By Strath-Fillan's blue fountain ! &c. THE MINSTREL'S LOVE. BY ALLAN CUNNINGHAM, ESQ. YE haughty dames all scented sweet, Go paint yourselves, and plume yourselves, For man's supreme inspection; O give me one whose loveliness Are Nature's pride and glory : |