ing, of gaining from report the extent of his embarrassments; and, with a privacy which might defy the studied efforts at discovery, recall him back to peace: but scarcely had the project gained birth, whẹn a new field for conjecture was awakened; the breeze of evening wafted aside the dark cloak that enshrouded his form, and, by the help of the chaste moonbeams sporting on the undulating bosom of the Adriatic, I discovered the glittering ensignias of greatness. Still he advanced, and still I pursued; until a curved turning in the clift disclosed a small but elegant portico, extending its Parian pillars to the entrance of a villa, whose romantic picturesque beauties might have defied the pencil of Fancy to have surpassed: behind it rose a grove of cedars; while, on either side, the waving heads of the mourning cypress yielded to the balmy breeze: large spreading chesnuts expanded o'er the dwelling, beneath whose shade imagination might picture it reposing. The stranger paused; he folded

his arms upon his breast, and bitter was his sigh, as his eyes, wandering from window to window, seemed in search of some object to rest on. I concluded him to be some romantic lover, come to offer up his devotion at the shrine of his heart's idolatry; and, smiling at my own officious zeal, I was about returning to Venice, when I saw him bend his knee upon the sand, and lift his voice in denunciation. The accents were familiar to my ear- Yes, he shall die' he exclaimed, rising: Philippina, 'tis you and love decree it!-To-morrow, haughty maid, when yon expanse swells proudly with its freight of beauty; when the Venetian shores echo the sounds of merriment, and love's soft airs die on the ocean's trembling wave, you shall appease the angry tumult of my soul, and steal me into rapture: yes, to-morrow, ere the crested moon withdraws her rays, pride shall have reaped an ample compensation ; nor fate, nor hell, a second time, shall blast me!' Again he folded himself in the concealment

cealment of his cloak, and, darting into a path which wound around the cliff, disappeared in a moment.

"Musing on what I had heard, yet undecided how to act, I lingered on the beach, in expectation of the stranger's reappearance; but no sound, save the monotony of the waves breaking on the pebbled shore, disturbed the stillness of the scene. One moment I was for returning, and alarming the vigilance of the inhabitants of the villa; the next shewed the impotence of the scheme, when the very name of the being against whom vengeance was denounced, was to me a stranger. Possibly the momentary frenzy of disappointed passion had given birth to a plan, the cool dictates of reason would overthrow; and, in this conclusion, I returned to my lodgings, determining, on the morrow, instead of embarking in the gondola of my friend, to take a solitary ramble towards the villa, on the shores of

the Adriatic, and acting as occasion might

require.

"Reflecting on the mysterious words of the unknown, whose voice, sounding familiar to my senses, awakened in vain the labouring powers of recognition, the night and succeeding day passed heavily. The sounds of revelry, the invitations of mirth, the rosy smiles of beauty, and the insidious calls of pleasure, alike ineffectually strove to overthrow my resolution: I saw my friends embark, I saw the gondola push from land, I heard the waves resound with the splash of the oar: gradually its streaming pendants diminished, gradually the sounds of harmony, dying into murmur, ceased to breathe; and then, summoning an attendant, fearless, yet prepared for an attack, I bent my steps towards the villa. I had nearly reached the jutting point which hid the portico from view, when I paused involuntarily at the sound of voices: Father,' lisped the accents of female soft

ness,

ness, yet a little further; only turn yon corner, and the whole expanse will be before us. Ah, what a gay scene! How I long-she checked herself, and con

cluded, return.

but, if you are weary, we will

No, Philippina, I am not weary,' was the response: but, alas! to immure you, my child, in á solitude so uncongenial to the inclinations of youth, embitters the remnant of my days, and forces me to murmur at the obscurity of my lot.''Oh, now you are cruel!' said the sweet Philippina indeed, indeed, I care not for all the pleasures of the world; if we were rich, perhaps we should not be half so happy. Content, my father, is a store of wealth, which the great would purchase with all their treasures.'

с

Can this be the haughty beauty,' I mentally apostrophized, whose disdain has changed the sigh of love into the denunciation of revenge?' Ah, how little did she merit the accusation!-She approached, leaning on the arm of her father; and I beheld

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