accountably been introduced. Had this been Hubert, or the spirit of Hubert? His tongue was parched within his mouth, a burning fever drank his blood. -"O God!" he cried aloud, "thy punishments are just, but they are severe. O Power Omnipotent! accept my repentance; let the infant spirit of him whose blood I have spilt plead to thy mercy for my offence: my weight of woe already crushes me to the earthforbear, forbear to torture me further-I am humbled before thee." СНАР. CHAP. VI. To what new wonders am I now reserv'd? Providence and Heaven! Oh failing eyes, deceive ye not my hope ?- This little cross!-I know it by sure marks -rising thoughts, And hopes and fears o'erwhelm me. AARON HILL. WE now return to Rosalind, whom we parted from on the day succeeding that which was marked by the setting out of Lord William and his men from the castle, to meet the advanced body of Allanrod's troops. Rosalind Rosalind slept peacefully, although the rumour of the black ghost, which had been seen on the drawbridge, and on many parts of the ramparts, interfered with the repose of some of the inhabitants of the castle, and caused them curiously to watch the burning of the lamp at midnight, dreading the appearance of its flame turning blue. But although Rosalind experienced no anxieties on account of the spirit which her household so universally dreaded, still her mind was rendered ill at ease by those which she derived from other sources; for her father she could not help feeling a degree of interest, notwithstanding his conduct towards her had been so unlike that of a tender parent; and for the life of Gertrude, her only female companion, and whom habit and affection combined, had taught her to consider in the light of a kind friend, her alarm was not less than for the safety of her father. Gertrude Gertrude had suddenly been taken ill, and from the first moment of her indisposition, her disorder had worn so alarming an appearance, as gave Rosalind the most serious uneasiness on her account. Bereft of her, she should be deprived of every one whom she now looked upon with any degree of affection, and whom she considered as feeling any real love for her. Mr. Wilmot, the family physician, had been nearly two years dead: his loss had only been replaced by a youth in the castle, to whom he had, at leisure hours, given some little instruction in the art of medicine; and Rosalind trembled for the safety of her servant, committed to the care of his slender skill. Day and night, Rosalind herself attended upon her with unremitting care and attention; she did not for an instant suffer herself to quit her apartment; even her devotions, which she had for a length of time been accustomed to VOL. II. F per perform in the chapel, were now offered in the chamber of Gertrude. up As she one night watched by her bed, observing her to be fallen into a slumber, she amused her thoughts, and kept herself from sleep, by composing the following ODE TO HEALTH. Thou, who mak'st the cheek to glow, What can all the world bestow If thou'rt not nigh? What to soothe the voice of woe, Of pain and misery? Need Experience tell his tale? Ah! too surely riches fail! But thro' the rugged path of fate, Altho' a thousand ills await, Tho' thorns around, And stings abound, And numerous brambles scatter'd fie, To wound the naked feet of Poverty, Yet |