-than the clouds gathered heavily around us, thick sleet began to fall, and an impenetrable fog enveloped us. Dimly and indistinctly we could see each other at the distance of a few yards-all beyond was in total obscurity. The guides experienced the greatest difficulty in finding the way. Continually we wandered from the right direction, and the horses starting back affrighted from the edge of a tremendous precipice, took the opposite direction, where they often found themselves on the brink of another, from which they shrunk with equal terror. Sometimes, with a sudden shock, they sunk into cavities up to the belly in snow, and with great exertion floundered out. Horrid ravines of snow, and hideous precipices, indistinctly seen through the driving sleet and fog, yawned at our feet. Repeatedly we had to turn back, and again descend the rugged yet slippery way by which we had painfully ascended-and, at random, try another direction. We wandered about in this uncertainty, drenched with wet, and benumbed with cold, for more than three hours upon the mountain-till we lighted upon a rude hovel, apparently erected as a shelter to the storm overtaken traveller, but which the fog had prevented our discerning, although we had probably long been wandering near it. From its roof now issued a thick smoke-a sight to us of unspeakable joy. Completely benumbed, we dismounted with difficulty, and entered the hut without ceremony, followed by our guides and horses. Before a fire of wet sticks, which burnt upon the earth, stood the tall figure of a man, whose haughty

countenance and cold steady eye rested upon us for a moment, as with dripping garments we made our way in. His gaze was that of unmoved indifference, excepting that a slight curl of the finely formed upper lip, spoke a feeling of contempt. Without speaking or saluting us, he silently made way for us. At last, in a deep and somewhat mournful voice, he said, looking at the dripping horses

'Poor animals! You must bear the brunt of the pitiless storm, in order that idleness and vanity may make their boast. You deserve pity.'

Startled by such a strange cynical speech, we gazed with astonishment at the being from whom it proceeded. He was leaning upon a long wooden staff, pointed with iron, such as are universally used by pedestrians among the Alps; and, as the flame of the fire, (the only light the hovel's solid walls admitted), flashed upon his dark features and lofty stature, I thought I never beheld so striking and noble a figure. Though apparently rather past the meridian of life, and extremely thin, his finely proportioned limbs still seemed to possess all the activity and vigour of youth. The deep traces of care and mental suffering, and the lines worn by strong passions, were impressed upon his brow; but the dark eye that lightened beneath the arched eye-brow had not yet lost its fire. It was now bent, as if in deep meditation, on the flickering flame, wholly unmoved by our involuntary gaze of astonishment.

A dead silence ensued at last Lady Hun

locke whispered softly to me, 'Doesn't he look like a Captain of Banditti.'

Low as this was whispered his quick ear caught it. A glance of sarcastic derision, and a sardonic smile were the only reply, while he muttered to himself something in which I fancied I distinguished, 'heads full of romance.'

'Hast thou no brandy?' he said aloud in German, abruptly turning to a stupid looking boor, who was sitting on the ground, smoking. The fellow grunted assent.

'Give it them, then.'

Lady Hunlocke, who was wiser than myself, at once took a dram, but when offered to me I declined it.

'Take it!' he said, in an imperious voice of indisputable command-then muttered to himself, Fool!'

I swallowed it instantly-in fact, as Lady Hunlocke afterwards observed, I verily believe if it had been poison, one would have drank it off, so irresistible was the mandate.

Another dead silence followed. What do ye here?'-at last he sternly asked, raising his eyes from the fire, and fixing their deep steady gaze upon us.

'We only came to take shelter from the storm;' replied Lady Hunlocke, meekly.

'And what have ye to do in the storm?' he asked. What has the gaudy butterfly to do in the wild deserts of a region such as this? Were its weak wings made to buffet these raging elements? Why did you not keep to your gay flowers and your artificial parterres ?-Go back

-go back!-Go to your idle world again! Go ye have no business here!'

So I will go back,' said Lady Hunlocke, trying to rally her spirits a little,' as soon as it suits me.'

'How know'st thou that?' he interrupted her. 'Presumptuous mortal! How knowest thou that ever thou shalt be permitted to return? How knowest thou that, even before night fall, that body, on whose vain beauty thou pridest thyself so much, shall not lie dashed in pieces, at the foot of those precipices, and the wild vulture, sweeping to its evening prey, pick thine eyes out!"

Lady Hunlocke turned pale with horror, at his appalling manner and denunciation, and stared at him aghast; for she began to think he was certainly mad, if not the devil himself.

Nay, shrink not from the doom your own vain temerity has tempted! You deserve the death you wantonly seek. The poor peasant who risks his life in these wilds, to save his helpless flock-the daring chamois hunter, who picks up a precarious subsistence by his dreadful trade the cattle driver, who leads the herd of his native mountains down to the rich plains below--the poor despised monk, who courts the horrors of the storm to save the perishing wanderer-the outlaw, cast out from the bosom of society to roam these wilds,--nay, even these guides, bribed by vanity and imbecility, to swell their empty boastful pride at the expense of health, perhaps of life,-these may perish in the howling storm, and be pitied-but you! What do you deserve,-but death?'

A dead pause of silence followed this denunciation-which was at last broken by his again demanding What do ye here?'

'We came for-for-pleasure,' Hunlocke.

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said Lady

'Pleasure!' he repeated, with a sarcastic laugh. Ay, pleasure is the vain purpose of your vain lives. Pleasure ye seek every where -but where do you find it? Is this pleasure?' he said with a sneer.

'Yes! it is pleasure-it is great pleasure to some people to see the Alps;' said Lady Hunlocke.

'To see them! No-it is not to see them that you come, but to say you have seen them-and make an idle boast of the perils you presume to seek.'

'After all-what harm can there be in coming?"

And what good? I ask what good do you come here to do? Do you come because hard necessity drives you? No-you come because idleness, folly, and vanity lead you. Do you come to save the lives of your fellow creatures? Noyou come to hazard your own and theirs, for the sake of your pitiful gold;-you come to throw away, for your pleasure,' your time, health, youth, fortune, abilities, if you have any—all the precious talents with which God has entrusted you; and for which he will call you to your dread account. You neglect your imperative duties-fool away your lives-and then innocently ask- What harm do I do?"

6

Lady Hunlocke, instead of justification, had now recourse to retaliation. 'Well then, if it is