The Broken Heart. transgressions. I could not forget I was a father; I pleaded the destitute state of my child; I implored; I entreated; at length I wrung from the How many bright eyes grow diin-how many pious father his consent that I should retain my soft cheeks grow pale-how many lovely forms greatest treasure for my Theresa, I chose my fade away into the tomb, and none can tell the saddle. Keep it, dear child, in remembrance of cause that blighted their loveliness. As the dove an affectionate father. And you, Karl, you are will clasp its wings to its side, and cover and consatisfied to relinquish worldly goods for the wel-ceal the arrow that is preying upon its vitals, so fare of my soul? Are you content to take my daughter with this portion!" Fool!" exclaimed Karl, "doting idiot! how dare you purchase exemption from punishment at my expense? Your wealth is mine; your possessions must be the portion of my bride. I will reclaim them from those rapacious monks, and tear them from the altar!" "You cannot, you dare not,” replied Ludovic, raising his voice in anger; "my agreement with your father had reference to my daughter only; my wealth formed no part of it.” Driviller! dotard!" vociferated Karl, "think you that I will accept a portionless bride? You must seek some other fool for your purpose-I re nounce her." "Give her to me, father!" cried Arnhold; I swear to cherish and protect her while I live. Give her to me, and when she shall be the loved wife of my bosom, I will live for her; aye, and die for her!" "Karl laughed in mockery. "You value life but little," said he, "to talk of sacrificing it for a woman. I never knew one worth the trouble of winning, and least of all Theresa." The young hussar laid his hand on his sabre. Theresa threw herself between them. At the same moment Ludovic sprang from his couch, tore the covering from his head, snatched his saddle from the wall where it hung, seized his sabre, with one stroke laid it open, and a stream of gold bezants, oriental pearls, and sparkling jewels, fell on the floor. "Wretch! worm! vile clod of the earth! art thou not justly punished? Hence, reptile! be gone, before I forget that thou art of my blood!" Ludovic, raised his sabre, and the dastardly Karl fled, without daring to give utterance to the imprecation which hung on his colorless lips. Trampling under foot the costly jewels which lay strewed around, Theresa rushed forward and embraced her father, exclaiming, "is not this a dream? Are you indeed returned to me? Can this be real?" Forgive me, my child," exclaimed Ludovic, "the pain I have been obliged to give your generous heart. My effort to make that wretch resign his claim to your heart has been successful. Grudge not that part of our store has been appropriated to the holy church; not to purchase forgiveness of the sins I have mentioned, and of which, thank Heaven, I am guiltless, but to be the blessed means of saving you from a miserable fate. Kneel down, my children-aye, support her, Arnhold; lay her innocent head on your bosom, and receive the fervent benediction of an old hussar." it is the nature of woman to hide from the world the pangs of wounded affection. The love of a delicate woman is always shy and silent. Even when fortunate, she scarcely breathes it to herself, but when otherwise, she buries it in the recess of her bosom, and there lets it cover and brood among the ruins of her peace. Look for her after a little, and you will find Friendship weeping over her untimely grave, and wondering that one who had but lately glowed with all the radiance of health and beauty, should so speedily be brought down to darkness and the worm.' Pale as a white rose, withering she lay- O thou! the perjured, cruel, faithless, blind! But thou didst break it; Nature could not cope Tears for thy absence, sighs at thy neglect, She blessed thy name—then kissed the lock of That from thy brow in happier days she shred, Then looked to Heaven, and prayed to meet thee there. And with a holy look of hope and peace, She bowed her head-the parting pang was o'er, The pallid lip a smile of rapture wore ; I saw her buried in patrician state, To deck that dust, to which they yield no tear. Prudence is more frequently of use than any I thought one tear of secret grief had been other intellectual quality. A fitter tribute to a Broken Heart. ORIGINAL. Rosaline; or, the Maid of Paris. BY T. A. WORRALL. A NOBLEMAN, attached to the court of Louis the fourteenth, received a visit from a beautiful young lady, whom his pander had discoved living with her mother, in a state of great poverty and suffering: But such was her extreme sensibility, exquisite loveliness, and mental distress, that with great magnaminity, he at once returned her to her mother, for whose future support he immediately provided. LORDS, dukes, and princes throng'd the Hall, Rich robes, and plumes and stars were there, Oh, such was the night in the month of flowers, E're vanish'd the crow'd of that festive night. In his sleep there stole, Sudden he started up from his sleep; Enter'd a page at the sound of the bell, The crimson chamber where thoughtful he lay ; Lose not a moment, but fly, page, fly— 'Dear lady, I did not look for tears- 'I will tell thee true.' My father was an officer, High in command he stood; He charg'd the foe-and he bravely fell On Blenheim's field of blood. My dearest sister, Julia, Mourn'd to hear our father's doom, The winter came—and deep distress, The cruel withering of our souls, For days we have not tasted food, In thankfulness to heaven for that- Thus have we liv'd in hope and fear, And Faith alone sustain'd our souls, 174 I did not shed a single tear, My heart was like the winter's leaf. Pity us Father, hear our cries, And cast us not unto the dust.' Trembling I rose, but oh! the woe, Which seiz'd my soul I cannot tell; 'My daughter, bread,' my mother said, 'My dearest child;' then fainting fell. I rais'd her up, yet scarce had strength; She faintly spoke, and sweetly smil'd. She lay in sleep, and by her side, The jaws of death seem'd open spread, That I should yield; such thoughts would rise; 'Go-where thy mother waits thee, With a full and bitter heart; Tell her that bright as beauty seems, And lovely as thou art; Not for the Dauphin's heritance, Not for the sceptre of proud France, Go-where thy life was cradled, Where thy young mind, unstain'd by art, Tell her this-though passion's victim, Tell her-I never look'd unmov'd, Though joy through life has been my aim; I charge thee not to yield to sadness; A courtier who happen'd to see Rosaline, When she spoke of the Duke, how her warm bosom glow'd, For fortune and favor he freely bestow'd; But that morning, that morning was never forgot, When he look'd on her poor and her pityless lot. And the heir-loom long kept was a piece of the the dismal howling of the wind. "I wouldn't give a bit of t'baccy for his life," said one, as I approached. The Phantom Ship. had retired into shelter, and nothing met the view but a dreary waste of water, which heaved to and THE belief in ghosts, fairies, and other super-fro with that convulsive motion that indicates the natural appearances, is fast falling into disrepute immediate approach of a storm. The sea-gulls in Ireland; but yet there are many parts of the fed towards the land, and mingled their startling country in which their existence is still as firmly shriek with the hoarse moanings of the surge and believed as the words of the parish priest, and where a man would be accounted as something akin to an infidel, did he venture to express a doubt upon the subject. In the seaport towns on By Gor they are dead men, Bill, unless they the south-eastern coast, the power of evil spirits, which are supposed to be doomed on account of make Ballycotton before dark," replied a tall and their crimes to remain for a certain number of muscular man, wrapped in a pilot-coat, and wearyears tenants of the air, is universally recognized ing a weather cap that fell back upon his by the uneducated classes, which in those districts form an overwhelming majority; and the changes of the weather to calm or tempest are, if not directly imputed to their caprice, believed to be effected through their immediate agency. Their favor is never courted, nor their protection asked for; but the people deem it dangerous to speak of them with disrespect, and their vengeance is very much feared. shoulders. "I told him how 'twould be," said Maurice Power, whom I recognized among them; "he wouldn't take the advice of an older man than himself." "What's the matter, Maurice?" said I, interrupting him. 66 Why, Sir, we're looking out for the Nancy. Bill Sullivan would go out this morning, though I advised him not to do so. He started about two o'clock this morning, and the Lord send that he does not catch more than he went to fish for. They saw the ship last night. "The Lord between us and all harm!" exclaim "Who saw it Maurice ?" demanded three or four voices together with the utinost eagerness. Why, some of the Algerines.' Lying off the coast of the county of Cork, and distant about a mile from the bay of Youghal, there is a small island known by the name of "Cable Island," which is regarded with singular superstition. It is said to be the favorite resting-ed a woman who had just come up, dropping a place of a spirit, that some century and a half since courtesy and making rapidly the sign of the cross animated the body of Pirate Kelly, a daring outon her forehead. law, whose outrages and desperate deeds are still spoken of in the traditions of the neighborhood, and is considered to be under his undisputed control. The soil is rich, and might without much difficulty be made fruitful, but its cultivation is neglected. No person resides upon the island, as it is thought unsafe to remain there after sunset and it is rarely visited, except by a few cottiers in the immediate neighborhood, who go thither to collect sea-weed, which they use as manure or reduce to kelp. Much treasure is said to be buried in the island, and it is the universal belief that the pirate appears in his ship outside a dangerous reef of rocks in the neighborhood whenever the tempest rages, and frequently on the night preceding a stormy day, as an announcement of the coming hurricane. The particulars of this story were communicated to me at Youghal, by an old man named Maurice Power, who had been for upwards of twenty years one of the crew of a large ferry boat, which, before the erection of the bridge across the river Blackwater, formed the only medium of communication between Youghal and the opposite shore of the county of Waterford; and who, with the exception of a few years that he had served on board of one of his Majesty's ships, had been a resident of that place ever since his boyhood. Power told the tale, too, under circumstances that forcibly indicated the strength of the popular faith on the subject. Upon a fearfully tempestuous day when every boat was drawn up on shore, a group of half-a-dozen men were observed standing upon the pier, with folded arms, conversing closely together, and looking anxiously out of the harbor as if momentarily expecting the appearance of some sail. There was no ship in sight; every vessel in the harbor This announcement appeared to strike the utmost terror into all the listeners, who now walked away in different directions, leaving Maurice and me together. I took the opportunity of asking him some questions relative to "the ship," at the sceptical tendency of many of which he appeared disposed to be angry. "A' thin, Sir," said he, placing his back against one of the pillars of the market-place, under which arcade we had walked in the meantime, "I wonder at you, to ax such a question. God help us, many a poor fellow saw that to his cost. Why, what else wrecked the Friends?' To be lost on her own rocks after being up the Mediterranean, and away from Youghal for as good as twelve months. Wisha, then, if it were God's will, it was a pity that poor Harry Edwards should have gone so soon. He was as good a creature as ever lived-never harmed nor hurted mortal. The very day that he sailed, he treated me to a glass of grog, because he said I was the first that ever put an oar into his hand—'twasn't ^ for the value of it, Sir." "You say," said I, "that The Friends' was wrecked by Pirate Kelly?" Wisha, Sir," he replied, it isn't right to be discoursing of such people, an' our own people out at sea on such a day as this is-the Lord save us!" After a pause, he continued, "True enough, * A term of contempt applied by professional watermen to peasants who alternately use the spade and oar. 'twas he that wrecked her. The mate, Sir, you born out at Ballyvergin, made a constant trade of know was the only one of the crew who escaped. it, till at last he took to be a pirate; seizing and He was washed ashore at Knock-'a-doon, and I plundering every thing he could lay his hands heard him tell it with his own lips. It was a upon. His men used to come ashore in a gang, dismal bad night. They couldn't see the lights armed with swords, thieving and robbing, and upon the mast-head, and every thing was in con- running away with any pretty girl that chanced to fusion on board. The tiller-ropes was carried come in their way. This went on for a long time, away, the helmsman knocked down, and nobody till at last word was given that Kelly was out at could get near the tiller, as it kept dashing from Cable Island. The mayor, as soon as he heard of side to side. Well, Sir, after the vessel was driv- it, went up to the Barrack for all the soldiers he ing for above a quarter of an hour, one of the men could get. He took some yeomen, too, and they got the helm again, and in a minute afterwards a all went out in boats to Cable Island. Kelly saw voice, as if from a vessel just by, roared out, them coming, but there was no escape, as it was Port-port! ship! Hoy! Port your helm or low water, and his little cutter was high and dry you'll be on the breakers! The mate tould me, on the strand. However, he made a long fight of Sir, that he heard this with his own ears. it, and after some of his men had been shot and the rest of his men taken prisoners, showed the sol. diers a chase all over the island. After all, they didn't catch him-he turned round-dashed a pistol that had missed fire into the face of the tide. Well, Sir, so exasperated was the Mayor, foremost, and then sprang over the cliff into the that he ordered all the prisoners to be shot on the spot. Sorry enough they were for it afterwards, too, for nobody knew where the money was buried." "Port your helm!' said the captain to a man at the rudder. "What would I port for ?' said he; 'd-n it, do you want us to run ashore ?' "Your'e driving ashore!' shouted the voice again. "Port your helm!' cried the captain, as he violently seized the tiller from the helmsman. The ship obeyed the rudder, and in an instant she was dashed upon the rocks. The captain had only time to say, "The Lord have mercy on our souls!' as a wave struck him to the deck, and to washed him overboard. The next morning, Sir, some of the dead bodies, and the mate, who had yet life in him, along with a few pieces of the wreck, were found on the shore by the coastguards." Maurice was here interrupted by the running of several persons along the quay, with cries of "a sail!" "It's not the Nancy, Sir," said he, as he bent slowly forward to see what was in sight. "I know she'll be lost: I told Sullivan so, but he wouldn't believe me." A vessel was now plainly apparent off the "Easter-Point," evidently not a British ship, from the style of her rigging. She remained but a moment in sight, as a difficulty of weathering the point, caused her immediately to go about. The suddenness of her disappearance gave rise to several conjectures among the groups which still remained anxiously on the look out, and by many she was thought to be nothing more nor less than Pirate Kelly's own ship. "A' thin, may be, Sir," said Maurice Power, as soon as the sensation created by the appearance of the strange sail in some degree subsided, " you never have heard this same Pirate Kelly's history ?" I replied that I was unacquainted with the particulars. "Why, Sir," continued he, "when my great grandfather was a boy, there were no coastguards in these places: and people had a deal more of their own way, especially in the smuggling line, than they have now. Boys would run in of a night, sometimes up the river, and sometimes out at the island, with their cargoes; and I have heard it for certain, that you could then buy a yard of the finest t'baccy for a penny-piece. Well, Sir, Kelly, who knew the spot well, being Yes, Sir, to be sure," said Maurice, in answer the world knows where it is now." Well, I suppose," said he, in reply, "as you ax the question you know nothing about the black that's watching it. They called him Gillick. Kelly used always to leave one man to mind the money, and him he swore never to quit it alive or dead, till he was relieved by another of the crew. The black was left on guard at the time the soldiers came, and sure enough he never left it since. Several people went out there at different times, hunting for the money. Some of them lost their eye-sight, and others got fits. "Tisn't two nonths ago, since Mary Ronan made her husband and some of his neighbors go out to dig for it, because of a dream which she had. But after all they were afraid to go into the cave, on account of the roaring voice of the black." Evening was now approaching, and the people, at length, wearied with watching, began to disperse towards their homes. |