Celeste hab 'im whip, I ofen hear 'im say he hab have found the black devils-on-on-lets see the his revenge one dese days." fun." girl, "Oh, Sabina," exclaimed the half distracted "dress me quickly, I go to die with them." M. de Clairville knocked at the door of the chamber, "I go to join the troops," he said, "and protect Le Bocage, if I can ; but you cannot remain here alone, as they may rise in the city and attack the houses. Sucre dieu! there is a knot of those venomous black snakes gathering opposite now; come, get ready and go with my wife to the Convent, which can be defended." "I go with you," said Natalie. "With me-pray why." "I cannot stay here. The idea of what they may be suffering, maddens me. I shall not survive them, and wish to die with them. I may be of some use in succouring the wounded." Nonsense, child!" But the calmness with which she spoke, and the look of "high resolve and constancy," which shone in the eyes of Natalie, showed him she would not remain behind. Let her go," said Madame de Clairville, who had been silently looking on, “it is her Saint's day, and who knows but Saint Natalie may have inspired her." In an instant more, a carriage drove furiously up to the door, and Mr. de Clairville handed out the females of the de Bourg family. On entering the house, the young ladies immediately fainted, while the mother and grand-mother gave way to violent lamentations. "Oh such a scene!—oh, mon dieu, what savages! They called poor dear M. de Bourg out of his bed, saying the sugar-house was on fire, and when he went out, he was butchered-the house was at tacked but defended by some faithful slaves, who put us in the carriage. Oh, my husband!-oh, my pretty house, they burnt it to the ground!-oh, my father-my plate-my jewels," resounded from all the ladies by turns. Spurs were in every horses side--they dashed on, and were soon in sight of the combatants. A band of negroes, some arrayed in their masters clothes-others clothed with only a ruffled shirt, and French uniform coat, torn from the back of some murdered Frenchman, were fast retreating before a company of soldiers. A few of the band which last came up, hastened to join the fray, but the remainder, the most of whom, like de Clairville, were merchants, had never been in such scenes before, and seeing the slaves were driven in the marsh, where they could not be long pursued, prudently determined to remain where they were. The conflict was soon over. Some of the wretched blacks perished in the swamp, and the others were taken prisoners. The severed heads of those Africans secured alive, were placed upon poles, and carried in front of the little army, a bloody and appalling ensign, which struck terror to the hearts of the already repentant negroes. At last Natalie had the happiness of beholding the house of her foster parents. Every door and window was closed, except one of the latter, out of which, a group of negroes were apparently parlying with a band of armed ruffians below. "See" exclaimed Natalie, "the faithful house slaves are defending the family against those belonging to the plantation. We are unseen-go around through that grove of cypress and live oak trees, and you may surprise them." As the men stole off silently, Natalie crept along under the trees and shrubs, until she gained the garden. She stole fearfully towards the house and soon had the satisfaction of seeing a window opened, and Cora, Celeste's woman, beckoned her to approach. In a few minutes she was in the presence of her fondly loved friends. Her appearance caused joy and astonishment in all, except Celeste-she gazed wildly on her. "Ha! Natalie," she exclaimed, "have you come in this, iny dying hour, to reproach me with my deceit towards you. You are revenged, and he will be yours again." After they were somewhat composed, they reentered the carriage, and with Mad. de Clairville, drove to the Convent. M. de Clairville and the distracted Natalie, who was a good horse-woman, "Alas how her mind wanders," said her mother, mounted their horses, joined a troop of armed citi-“the poor child insists on it, she is the cause of this zens, and rode out of town. The roads were filled insurrection, as she has so often ordered the punwith troops, and bodies of hastily armed men, of ishment of Quimbo, who is at the head of it, and all descriptions. All the plantations near the city this has almost taken her reason from her. But were deserted. As they advanced farther, dismal dearest daughter, abandon this idea." traces of savage revenge were plainly to be seen. The devastation was much less, however, than they could have expected, for although the plot was well contrived, and the leaders bold and active, yet those poor wretches soon lost command over themselves, in consequence of resorting immediately to the wine cellars. Here they were found dressed in their masters clothes, lying in groups around the flowing casks and empty bottles of the choicest wines, completely intoxicated, where these deluded beings were executed by the justly enraged populace, on the spot. Natalie was spared these sights, as she remained outside, conjuring de Clairville to ride on to Le Bocage.Soon after, loud shouts and firing, were heard at a little distance before them. "Ah, ha! they are at it," cried the men, "they The family were prisoners in this room, as all the house slaves were not favorable inclined towards them, and had not yet determined what to do. Mons. and Mad. de Lanneville had been always kind and just towards them, but the imperious conduct of Celeste had excited their wrath, and nothing would satisfy them but her blood. The room where the family were confined, opened into a front one, in which were assembled the house slaves, who advised them to keep concealed, and by no means attempt to escape, as they would be certainly taken and murdered, as it was a miracle that Natalie escaped unseen. They were in a critical situation, for the fidelity of the slaves was fast ebbing before the arguments of those assembled without, and the seducing views held out to them. Natalie had not been in the room many minutes, before the deep yells of the negroes, the oaths of the Americans, and the war cries of the Frenchmen, arose around them, in one deafening, dreadful sound, and told them the fight had commenced. Augustus gnashed his teeth, "oh, that I were among them," he said, and flying to the door, shook it with all his strength, but it was fastened beyond his power, and slowly and reluctantly he retreated by the side of Celeste. Her agitation was extreme, and throwing herself on the floor, she buried her face in her father's lap and sobbed violently The old gentleman's tears mingled with those of his daughter, but convinced his last hour had arrived, he struggled for composure, and sat quietly in his chair. His wife was beside him, pale with terror, busily telling her beads, and reciting her Aves. Natalie, whose feelings were wrought up to an unnatural pitch of excitement, stood calm and motionless, but watchful. The emotion of Augustus could not be repressed. Like a caged lion, he paced up and down, incessantly, the nar. row space allowed him, while the frowning brow and clenched fist, told of the stormy passions which were working within. At that moment, a loud harsh voice was heard haranguing, in the African language. "Oh, Madame!" cried one of the women, "dere ugly Quimbo, who climb in de winder." What does he say," asked Augustus eagerly. "He tell 'em, dey are weak soul slave-dey coward, traitor, stand an look on while dere broder fight." He say, "you want to twist tobacco, and plant rice all you day?—you want to be whip-to be bruised like sugar cane?-you, who were some of you, sons of princes in your own land.” Celeste arose and threw herself in her husbands arms-""Tis the last time!" she said. Augustus pressed her to him in silent agony. "Now he tell 'em, a big band of white soldiers comin, dey mus rush out, kill dem who fight now, and den all together attack de oders, but he say, mus leave no traitor behind-kill em all in de house." "Must we all die like rats in a hole," said Augustus despondingly, "the devils have disarmed me." Oh he say, bring out the imperious Celestethe tyrannic Madame Warren, who dared whip Quimbo for nothing. Let her die first!" The yells of the slaves, told the agonized listeners, the African's eloquence had prevailed. The door was burst open, and the furniture which had been piled against it, knocked down, but not before Natalie had put on the hat and veil of Celeste, which lay on the table, and threw her satin cloak around her, which completely concealed her form and dress. She presented herself at the door as they entered, and was dragged out in the other room. In the middle, stood a savage looking negro, whose glistening snake-like eyes, shone with an expression of the most diabolical malignity. Over his dress of negro cloth, he wore an uniform coat, and on his head, a cocked hat, both belonging to Mr. de Lanneville, while daggers, pistols, and knives were stuck in his girdle. He now stepped forward to fulfil his bloody intentions, another negro held him back saying 46 Pero and his band are defeated. The white men have united and will soon attack us. Come! quick to the swamp, or we are taken!" "I will have my revenge first," he said, grinning to enjoy her dying agonies, but at the sight of the horribly. He tore the hat from his victim's head, as if face of Natalie, he started back, and then dashing her to the floor, sprang over her, and rushed into the room in search of Celeste. The senses of Natalie had been stunned by the blow, and when she recovered she found herself once more in her bed-room, while a negro woman was watching over her. "Where is Celeste," she asked. "Madame Warren is dead," was the melancholy reply. Natalie fell back in so deep a swoon, that the terrified Cora thought she would never recover again, and when she did revive, the grief and despair with which she mourned for her beloved Celeste-the friend of her youth, made her attendant fear the delirium from which she had just recovered, would return again. "Me glad you come, Mamsell Natalie. Every body sorry when you went away. Mamsell Celeste neber de same afterwards. She cross to allour slaves neber would rise if she no hab em whip." "I could not save her," mourned the unhappy girl, "why did he not kill me instead of her." But you save all de rest. When Quimbo stab Missee Celeste, her husband shoot him wid your pistol. When Quimbo die, all de oders give up, and de soldiers chase away an kill de rest." "Where are Mons. and Mad. de Lanneville." "Massa in bed sick. Missee tell me to let her know when you wakee." Cora left the room. Natalie lay plunged in the most gloomy reflections, mourning that all she had done, had been in vain, when some one pronounced her name. She turned, and beheld Augustus. "Oh Natalie!-injured girl!—I come to thank you for your efforts for my happiness. Celeste loved you truly, Natalie, although her conduct did not show it." "What mean you Augustus." My poor Celeste, before she died, did you ample justice, and revoked all she had once told me regarding you. Natalie! forgive me for ever doubting you-believe me, my heart has ever been yours, and I never should have deserted you, had I not been deceived." "Generous Celeste!-oh that I could have died for you!" When you, with such true friendship, offered yourself as a sacrifice, instead of Celeste, I rushed after-the door was crowded with slaves. While I was struggling through, I heard a shriek from my poor wife, and turned, but it was too late! The deed was done, and the murderer stood with his bloody weapon before me to plunge into my heart. I shot him with your pistol, Natalie." Augus- gent solicitation, Natalie, now their only child, had tus could scarcely restrain his tears while he continued: "Poor Celeste was lying on the floor and her distracted mother was endeavoring to stop the life's blood, which was flowing out fast. We carried her to her room, where she only lived long enough to tell me all." "I should have been happier," Celeste said"had I not have permitted Natalie's generous sacrifice, for remorse poisoned all my joy. Tell Natalie, I loved and blessed her then, and bless her now. But this agitates you too much," continued Augustus, "I should not have told you this in your weak state." In a few minutes Natalie had the happiness of being again pressed to the bosom of her wretched foster mother, who fervently thanked Heaven, all she loved, had not been torn from her. She led her to the bed of the suffering father, but the poor old man knew her not. For many days he spoke not, and smiled not, butlay gazing upwards as if piercing the heavens, in search of his beloved daughter. The next day Augustus whispered to Natalie, all was now ready if she wished to see her murdered friend for the last time. She took the arm of Augustus, and summoning all her fortitude, entered the room. The sun was entirely excluded from the chamber of death, which was however as brilliant and gay, as if decked for a ball. The walls were hung with wreaths of roses, and the floor strewed with flowers-while the soft light of the large wax tapers shone down on the high-talented and lovely Celeste, glittering in her richest attire, and covered with flowers. Her face was so white, and her features so well defined, that she might have been taken for some marble figure, sculptured for a monument. "Lovely but unhappy Celeste," thought Augustus, as the tears rolled down his cheeks, "In that dress I first called her mine, Motionless, and passionless, as she now seems, that form charmed all by its grace and beauty-from under those pale closed lids, once shone out the fire of wit and intelligence-and those colorless lips opened to sounds as sweet as ever charmed the ear of man. of what avail! All this brilliancy and loveliness covered an erring heart, as those gay flowers, and splendid apparel conceal the death wound-let her errors however, be forgotten, since they sprang from love for me." But Natalie in the meanwhile, was leaning with clasped hands, over the insensible form of her she had so loved. As the tears fell from her eyes, they rolled unheeded, over the pale, cold cheek of Celeste, and brought the harrowing conviction to her heart, that she, whom she had loved with so much devotedness, would never smile, or move again— all her sighs, all her tears, would never recall her. With a deep sob Natalie fell in the arms of Augustus, who bore her from the distressing scene. The house and plantation of Le Bocage, had suffered much from the late insurrection, and the beautiful garden had been destroyed. While the necessary repairs were going on, Monsieur de Lanneville, resolved on travelling, hoping change of scene, might relieve his poor wife, who was fast! sinking under the dreadful affliction which had ately riven her heart. In consequence of their ur renounced her resolution of entering the convent, and consented to accompany them. Augustus was also of the party, for they looked on him as a son, and entreated him not to leave them. The unhappy family embarked for Europe, where they spent two years in travelling. In revisiting his old friends and the scenes of his youth, Monsieur de Lanneville by degrees recovered his tranquility, but the bereaved inother sank under her grief, and was laid in the tomb of the De Lannevilles. When Natalie again revisited the shores of her loved Mississippi, she came as the happy and cherished bride of her beloved Augustus. The poignant grief which had once agitated their hearts for the loss of the beautiful Celeste, had subsided-she dwelt in their memories, as some brilliant meteor, which had flashed before their eyes, and then was lost forever. Boxiana. From the Comic Annual, for 1836. I HATE the very name of Box- It 'minds me of the woes I've felt E. R. S. They sent me to a Yorkshire school, I pac'k my Box-I pick'd the locks: I came ashore-I call'd a coach, And gave me dreadful knocks. I had a pretty garden there, All bordered round with BOX; He took my wife to see the play- I jealous grew, and from that day, I sold my house-I left my wife, I went to law, whose greedy maw The name of BOX I therefore dread, I've had so many shocks; A LOVER'S EXPERIMENT. A SKETCH FROM LIFE. He is really handsome, and so very agreeable and polite, too, but oh, that odious limp spoils it all. What a pity it is he is lame, is it not Eloise ?" Thus spoke Adelaide Dorman, the reigning belle of the town of C, to her cousin Eloise De Milton, who, although not quite as conspicuous, or in common terms, "as dashing" as her more beautiful cousin, was by many, esteemed more, for that very retiring disposition and unassuming manner, for which she was so often so much rallied by Adelaide. 'Yes, for do you recollect the other evening when Miss W., from Boston, who passed through this, on her way to the springs, called here and was introduced to him, in speaking of dancing, turned to him and asked him if he was fond of it; he replied, I am not very fond of it now, for since I have belonged to the dot-and-carry-one family, I have not had much practice.' By the by, what could he have meant by that? he must have met with the misfortune since his introduction into company; he inferred, at least that he had once been fond of it. So strange, too, that he should attend all the balls and dancing parties, and he always seems to limp worse than ever then; one would think that when there, he would not move round much, but sit as much as possible; but far from that, he is hopping over the room, making himself master of ceremonies and completely forestalling the gallantries of our native beaux.” "And yet," said Eloise, "notwithstanding his limping and hopping, as you call it, you must confess that he does whatever he undertakes with a great deal more grace than they do; he never attempts to dance at any rate." "Indeed, coz, I don't know that you can even give him credit for that; for, a few evenings since, he, with a mock-sober face, asked me to honor him with my hand, and really insisted on dancing with me. By my troth, what a pretty figure he would have made on the floor!" "Oh, but he would not have really danced, had you accepted him, cousin, he was just jesting with you: he would not have made himself so ridiculous." 'Ho, ho, then, he would have made himself ridiculous, my demure coz? 1 did not know that you would own so much." "Sure enough! what is he to you, when here you have been defending him and answering for him, like the affianced love of a knight-errant; and yet you ask what is he to you? It seems to me, cousin, that he does distinguish you among us, and I do not think you hate him much either." "Fie, fie, Adelaide, no such thing; I like his company and so do you, and every one. He is a fine young man I allow, but—————— "But he is lame, coz; you would not marry a lame young man, would you? one of the dot-andcarrying-one family, as he himself expressed it? "Why, Adelaide, would you not, if you loved him?" "Oh yes, coz, if I loved him, perhaps I might; but I think there is but litle danger of such an accident here. I do not mean to speak disparagingly of him, by any means, for as to character and disposition, I know of none who exceed him; but coz, when I marry, the happy man shall be neither crippled nor deformed; I am proud, you know, by nature; and I could not go through life except with one whose exterior was such as to command at least respect. I pity the unfortunate, but I think it would be hardly right to do myself penance by taking their troubles on my shoulders." Eloise did not answer, and as a walk had been before proposed, it was now carried into execution. In the mean time I will undertake to give my readers a more particular understanding of what we are endeavoring to pourtray. Charles Walton was a young man of genteel address and prepossessing exterior; and one who had mingled in the first company of the metropolis; and by the report of one well acquainted with him and a native of the place where he now was, belonged to one of its most respectable families, and as such, was received in the comparative small circle of the town of C, with pleasure at the accession of a city beau, although barred in some measure by the halting gait which the reader has already heard expatiated upon. Many of its fair inhabitants had thought and said that Charles Walton was agreeable company and handsome withal, but all agreed with Adelaide Dorman, "that odious limp spoiled it all," (that is, for a husband, of course.) Eloise De Milton was perhaps one exception, as we cannot affirm that she had ever been heard to say so. Walton had some business to transact there, which detained him for some time; but as it was not of a very active character, and took but little of his time, he had leisure to cultivate the acquaintance of those among whom he was thrown. He was, when he came there, an entire stranger, but through one or two letters of introduction, together with the unexpected arrival of the city friend we spoke of, on a visit. he soon found himself intimate in a circle which, though smaller, certainly would not have shamed that which he had left. had come upon him on his arrival rather suddenly; "Why, Walton, how came you here and what the plague is the matter with you? " Morton Hush," was the answer. "I have a secret for your ear." A whispering conference passed between them-"You will keep my secret then," demanded Walton? "I will with pleasure," was the reply. During his stay, Morton and himself were almost always together, especially in visiting; and, just as the ladies, whom we left preparing for a walk, were issuing from the door they met the two friends who immediately joined them. They had not gone far when Miss De Milton found her self walking alone with Walton; and Morton and her cousin some distance ahead. Conversation of the usual light nature passed between them which would not be interesting to relate here, being chiefly on the passing events of the day. That topic however was soon exhausted and they walked for a few minutes in silence. Walton broke it, "I will tell you," said he, "your present thoughts." "I challenge you," was the reply. "The beauty of yon dark cloud, whose edges are now gilded with the beams of the setting sun was the first in your thoughts when I spoke." "I confess it," she answered," and indeed it is not strange that you should guess it, for my eyes were on it and therefore you concluded, I suppose, my thoughts were also." "No, it was more than that; the thoughts are not always where the eye is fixed; but I am used to reading thoughts from the features; it has been my study, and I flatter myself that I have made some progress, but you need not fear me; I have not yet obtained so far as to read those lying deep in the heart; it is only those which float but lightly round it which my skill can reach, but," he continued and changing the trifling tone in which they had been speaking, to a serious one; "would that my power did extend so far; would that I could now read the inmost thoughts of one the nearest and dearest to me; that I could know what I confess is far above my art-the heart of Eloise." "And think you, Mr. Walton, it would be fair," she answered still speaking gaily, "that you should know the secrets of my heart, and I be ignorant of yours? that one should possess that power denied to others?" ception adopted in a whim, that I have wooed and won my future bride, my lovely Eloise. But yet a little while let it remain so, and till a fitting time shall come I will hobble still." "As you please," was the soft reply, "but let us overtake our friends, for it is now dark and they will wonder at our laggardness." There was a large party to be given by Miss Dorman as a parting one to both Walton and his friend Morton; perhaps rather more on account of the latter than the first named; for we believe that Morton had not been all this time sensible to the charms of Adelaide, and "some people did say," that they were, or were soon to be engaged; while "rumor with her thousand tongues" had done the same kind office for Eloise and Walton. "What," said the beautiful Adelaide, "and are you really going to inarry the lame beau! Well if it were not for that, I might envy; but as it is you are welcome to him, coz." Thank you cousin," was the reply as she turned away with a smile. But, to return to the party; all the town, that is all the fashionable part of it were there. Walton entered and took a seat near the door, by the side of Eloise. The music commenced-"Cotillions" were called-Morton led Miss Dorman to the head of one of them; and to the great surprise of all present, Charles Walton led Eloise De Milton to to the opposite head. "What on earth is the meaning of this," exclaimed Adelaide to Morton. " Why Mr. Walton walks as straight as any one, and my conscience, he is going to dance too." Right and left" was now called, and her won der, as well as that of all around, was increased, as Walton led his now triumphant partner gracefully through the windings of the mazy dance, perfectly free from the limping and hopping which had before characterized him. Indeed he and his partner together with Morton, were pretty much all who did get through the cotillion without some "Oh, Eloise, divest the argument of all its gene- halting, so much wonder was expressed and so ral features and let it centre here with us alone. I much sensation excited at the recovery of the use will freely give you the deepest secret and most of his feet. He was completely the lion of the cherished feeling of my heart; it is in few words, evening. We have little more to add, as the reI love you; give, ol give me in exchange to know sult must be now too perceptible; but by way of one, I ask but one thought of your heart-and-winding up our story, we will state that about a yet-dolt, idiot, that I am; to think that one so fair year after the return of the friends to the metropoas thee can love a crippled and limping piece of lis they visited again the town of C—, and ere mortality like me." He paused as if exhausted they left it the paper of the day announced a douin passion; what, then, was his transport to hear ble marriage; between William Morton and Adethat voice, dearest to him in the world, pronounce laide Dorman, Eloise De Milton and Charles Wallow as the murmuring breeze, yet firm and distinct-ton, whom the fair of C- still persisted in call"Do you then think so meanly of me, as to sup-ing the "Lame Beau." pose so trifling an obstacle would be a bar to one of the most important actions of my life? If my hand will answer it-it is here, my heart." "So say no more, my Eloise," he exclaimed, seizing it with rapture, "or rather speak on and let me dwell on every word, as if like her in the fairy tale, each word dropped a diamond-they are far more valuable to me than if they were so. And now Eloise, I have another secret to unfold; I have deceived you; you, with many others. But hold me," and as he spoke he stood erect, "I am no cripple; it was but assumed, forgive me, for it is thus with all its disadvantages as practising a de A Sentiment. ELMA, how strong the tie that binds How dread that stupor of the soul, |