over the railing. But, instead of man, “ who is the murderer of the finding his grave in the waters, he poor traveller?" felt himself below seized powerfully “ Who? why, who but yourself? by the grasp of a man—whom, from was it not yourself that fired the his scornful laugh, he recognized as pistol?" his evil counsellor. The man bore Aye, but at my own head." him to the shore, and said No, no The fiend laughed in a way that my good friend: he that once enters made Schroll's flesh creep on his into a league with me him I shall bones. • Understand this, friend, deliver from death even in his own that he whose fate I hold in my hands despite."

cannot anticipate it by his own act. Half crazy with despair, the next For the present, begone, if you would morning Schroll crept out of the town escape the scaffold. To oblige you with a loaded pistol. Spring was once more, I shall throw a veil over abroad spring flowers, spring this murder.” breezes, and nightingales * : they Thereupon the grave-digger set were all abroad, but not for him, or about making a grave for the corpse, his delight. A crowd of itinerant whilst Schroll wandered away-more tradesmen passed him, who were on for the sake of escaping the hideous their road to a neighbouring fair. presence in which he stood, than One of them, observing his dejected with any view to his own security countenance with pity, attached him- from punishment. self to his side, and asked him in a Seeing by accident a prisoner tone of sympathy what was the mat- under arrest at the guard-house, ter. Two others of the passers-by Schroll's thoughts reverted to his Schroll heard distinctly saying- own confinement. “ How happy,"

Faith, I should not like for my part said he, « for me and for Charlotte to walk alone with such an ill-look- -had I then refused to purchase ing fellow.” He darted a furious life on such terms, and had better glance at the men, separated from his laid to heart the counsel of my good pitying companion with a fervent spiritual adviser !”–Upon this a pressure of his hand, and struck off sudden thought struck him—that he into a solitary track of the forest. would go and find out the old clergyIn the first retired spot, he fired the man, and would unfold to him his pistol: and behold! the man who wretched history and situation. He had spoken to him with so much told his wife that some private afkindness lies stretched in his blood, fairs required his attendance for a few and he himself is without a wound. days at the town of

But, At this moment, while staring half- say what he would, he could not preunconsciously at the face of the mur, vail on her to desist from accompanydered man, he feels himself seized ing him. from behind. Already he seems to On the journey his chief anxiety himself in the hands of the public exe- was-lest the clergyman, who was cutioner. Turning round, however, already advanced in years, at the he hardly knows whether to feel memorable scene of the sand-hill, pleasure or pain on seeing his evil might now be dead. But at the very suggester in the dress of a grave- entrance of the town he saw him digger. “My friend,” said the grave- walking in the street, and immediatedigger, “ if you cannot be content to ly felt himself more composed in wait for death until I send it, I must mind than he had done for years. be forced to end with dragging you The venerable appearance of the old to that from which I began by saving man confirmed him still more in his you—a public execution. But think resolution of making a full disclosure not thus, or by any other way, to es- to him of his whole past life: one only cape me. After death thou wilt as- transaction, the murder of his first suredly be mine again.”

wife, he thought himself justified in “Who, then,” said the unhappy concealing; since, with all his peni

It may be necessary to inform some readers, who have never lived far enough to the south to have any personal knowledge of the nightingale, that this bird sings in the daytime as well as the night.

tence for it, that act was now beyond she repeated her attempts. But he the possibility of reparation.

parried them all with firmness. A For a long time, the pious clergy- more severe trial to his firmness was man refused all belief to Schroll's prepared for him in the heavy bills narrative; but being at length con- which his wife presented to him on vinced that he had a wounded spirit his reaching home. Her expenses in

to deal with, and not a disordered in- clothes and in jewels had been so tellect, he exerted himself to present profuse, that no expedient remained -all those views of religious consola- to Schroll but that of selling without tion which his philanthropic charac- delay the landed estate he had so ter and his long experience suggested lately purchased. A declaration to to him as likely to be effectual. this effect was very ill received by Eight days' conversation with the his wife. Sell the estate?” said clergyman restored Schroll to the she: “what, sell the sole resource I

: · hopes of a less miserable future. But shall have to rely on when you are the good man admonished him at dead ? And for what reason, I parting to put away from himself should be glad to know; when a whatsoever could in any way tend to very little of the customary luck of support his unhallowed connexion. your dice will enable you to pay off

In this direction Schroll was aware these trifles ? And whether the bills that the dice were included : and he be paid to-day or to-morrow-canresolved firmly that his first mea- not be of any very great importance.” sure on returning home should be to Upon this, Schroll declared with bury in an inaccessible place these firmness that he never meant to play accursed implements that could not again. “Not play again!” exclaimbut bring mischief to every possessor. ed his wife, “ pooh! pooh! you On entering the inn, he was met by make me blush for you! 'So then, I his wife, who was in the highest suppose it's all true, as was said, spirits, and laughing profusely. He that scruples of conscience drove you inquired the cause. "No," said she: to the old rusty parson; and that he .“ you refused to communicate your enjoined as a penance that you should motive for coming hither, and the abstain from gaming? I was told nature of your business for the last as much : but I refused to believe it; week: I too shall have my myste- for in your circumstances the thing ries. As to your leaving me in soli- seemed too senseless and irrational. tude at an inn, that is a sort of cour- “ My dear girl," said Schroll, tesy which marriage naturally brings « consider—". with it: but that you should have “ Consider ! what's the use of contravelled hither for no other purpose sidering: what is there to consider than that of trifling away your time about” interrupted Madame Von in the company of an old tedious Schrollshausen : and, recollecting the parson, thut (you will allow me to gay cavalier whom she had met at say) is a caprice which seems scarce- the inn, she now for the first time ly worth the money it will cost.” proposed a separation herself. “Very

“Who then has told you that I well,” said her husband, “ I am conhave passed my time with an old tent.” “So am I,” said his fatherparson?" said the astonished Schroll. in-law, who joined them at that mo

“ Who told me? Why, just let me ment. “ But take notice that first of know what your business was with all I must have paid over to me an the parson, and I'll let you know in adequate sum of money for the creturn who it was that told me. So ditable support of my daughter: much I will assure you, however, else now-that the cavalier, who was my Here he took Schroll aside ; and informant, is a thousand times hand- the old threat of revealing the mursomer, and a more interesting com- der so utterly disheartened him, that panion, than an old dotard who is at length in despair he consented to standing at the edge of the grave.” his terms.

All the efforts of Madame Von Once more, therefore, the dice Schrollshausen to irritate the curiosi- were to be tried; but only for the ty of her husband proved ineffectual purpose of accomplishing the sepato draw from him his secret. The tion: that over, Schroll resolved to next day on their return homewards seek a livelihood in any other way,

a

even if it were as a' day labourer. the adjoining room. The story was The stipulated sum was at length all repeated to her : and she was the collected within a few hundred dol- more delighted with it, because in lars: and Schroll was already look- the relater she recognized the gay ing out for some old disused well cavalier whom she had met at the into which he might throw the dice inn. Every body laughed again, exand then have it filled up: for even a cepting two persons-Stutz and river seemed to him a hiding-place Schroll. The first had again lost all not sufficiently secure for such in the money in his purse ; and the sestruments of misery.

cond was so confounded by the story, Remarkable it was on the very that he could not forbear staring night, when the last arrears were to with fixed eyes on the stranger, who be obtained of his father-in-law's de- stood over against him.

His conmand,-a night which Schroll had sternation increased when he peranticipated with so much bitter anxi- ceived that the stranger's counteety,--that he became unusually nance seemed to alter at every mogloomy and dejected. He was par- ment; and that nothing remained ticularly disturbed by the counte- unchanged in it, except the cold exnance of a stranger, who for several pression of inhumanscorn, with days running had lost considerable which he perseveringly regarded himsums. The man called himself Stutz; self. but he had a most striking resemblance At length he could endure this no to his old comrade, Weber, who longer : and he remarked, therefore, had been shot at the Sand-hill; and upon Stutz's again losing a bet, that differed indeed in nothing but in the it was now late; that Mr. Stutz was advantage of blooming youth. Scarce too much in a run of bad luck; and had he leisure to recover from the that on these accounts he would defer shock which this spectacle occasion- the further pursuit of their play until ed, when a second occurred. About another day. And, thereupon, he put midnight another man, whom no- the dice into his pocket. body knew, came up to the gaming- “ Stop!” said the strange cavatable--and interrupted the play by lier; and the voice froze Schroll with recounting an event which he repre- horror; for he knew too well to whom sented as having just happened. A that dreadful tone, and those fiery certain man, he said, had made a eyes, belonged. covenant with some person or other, “ Stop!” he said again :

prothat they call the Evil One—or what duce your dice!” And tremblingly is it you call him? and by means Echroll threw them upon the table. of this covenant he had obtained a “Ah! I thought as much," said steady run of good luck at play. the stranger : “ they are loaded “Well

, Sir” (he went on),, “and dice !” So saying, he called for a would you believe it, the other day hammer, and struck one of them in he began to repent of this covenant: two. “ See!” said he to Stutz, my gentleman wanted to rat, he holding out to him the broken dice, wanted to rat, Sir. Only first of all, which in fact seemed loaded with he resolved privately to make up a lead. “Stop, vile impostor!” excertain sum of money. Ah ! the poor claimed the young man, as Schroll idiot! he little knew whom he had was preparing to quit the room in the to deal with: the Evil One, as they greatest confusion; and he threw the choose to call him, was not a man dice at him, one of which lodged in to let himself be swindled in that his right eye. The tumult increased; manner. No, no, my good friend. the police came in; and Stutz was I saw-I mean, the Evil One saw- apprehended, as Schroll's wound aswhat was going on betimes; and he sumed a very dangerous appearance. secured the swindler just as he fan- Next day Schroll was in a viocied himself on the point of pocket- lent fever. He asked repeatedly ing the last arrears of the sum want- for Stutz. But Stutz had been comed.”

mitted to close confinement; it have The company began to laugh so ing been found that he had travelled loudly at this pleasant fiction as they with false passes. He now confessed conceived it, that Madame Von that he was one of the sons of the Schrollshausen was attracted from mutineer Weber ; that his sickly

mother had died soon after his fa- but before his signals were complied
ther's execution; and that himself with, the wretched man had expired
and his brother, left without the con- in convulsions.
trol of guardians, and without sup- From his horror at the sight of the
port, had taken to bad courses. young clergyman, and from the as-

On hearing this report, Schroll ra- tonishment of the clergyman himself, pidly worsened; and he unfolded to on arriving and hearing that he had a young clergyman his whole unfor- already been seen in the sick-room, tunate history. About midnight, he it was inferred that his figure had sent again in great haste for the been assumed for fiendish purposes. clergyman. He came. But at sight The dice and the strange cavalier disof him Schroll stretched out his appeared at the same time with their hands in extremity of horror, and wretched victim; and were seen no waved him away from his presence; more.

THE FLOWER-SPIRIT.

A FAËRY TALE.

I've heard it said that flowers have music in them,
With which they lull the truant bee to sleep,
Aud so preserve tbeir swects.

Anon.
The Day had closed his languid eyes,

And Evening sent her lucid star
To herald through the silent skies

The coming of her roseate car
The winds were resting in their caves,

The birds reposed on every tree;
And sea-fowl on the glassy waves

Were slumbering in security :
And golden hues o'erspread the rills,

And tinged the valley's robe of green;
While, far above the giant hills,

The moon sat gazing o'er the scene.
And Night, that ever-changeful maid,

Seem'd lingering in her own dark bower,
With all her storms, as if afraid

To mar the beauty of that hour;-
When Florestine roam'd sadly on,

And thought of one, with speechless pain,
Who to the distant wars had gone,

And never might return again.
She thought of him, and, in a vale,

Where Nature in her beauty smiled,
The maid reclined-serene, but pale

As Sorrow's gentlest, saddest child.
She turn'd her eyes, with mourning dim,

Towards the moon that shone above,
As if her light could tell of him

For whom she felt both grief and love.
Then bending to the earth her gaze,

And weeping o'er her hapless lot,
She saw, illumed by Evening's rays,

A simple, sweet “ Forget-me-not."
At other times in other mood-

The little flower perhaps were slighted,
But in the dreary solitude

Of parted love, and pleasures blighted,
Her mind on that alone could muse-

Her eye on that alone could rest.

Was it that pearl'd and shining dews
Lay glittering on its azure breast?
Was it that other flowers, adorn'd

With hues the brightest heaven could print,
Rose proudly round, as if they scorn'd
Its faint and unobtrusive tint?
Or was't the name that so enthrall'd,

And bound her, as with magic spell;
And, without voice or language, call'd
The hermit, Thought, from Memory's cell?
"Poor flower! (she said) that liv'st apart,
And shrink'st before the noon-day sun,
No tongue could whisper to my heart
More feelingly than thou hast done.
For though, to share thy humble state,
No flower, akin to thee, appears,
Thou droop'st not o'er thy lonely fate,
But smilest through twilight's crystal tears.
Oh! thou, in hours of grief and care,
My voiceless monitor shalt be,
And I will shun the fiend, Despair,
And resignation learn-from thee."

She sigh'd no more-and ceased to weep-
And bow'd her head in meekness lowly:
The floweret seem'd to wake from sleep,
And ope its little blue eyes slowly.
The leaves expanded, and a sound
Came breathing from them, like a sigh
That mingles with the air around,
And as it mingles seems to die.
And these the accents that were heard
To issue from that azure cave,

In tones as sweet as ever bird

Gave to the woods or listening wave.

"Thou hast come to me-thou hast come to me,
In thy gloom of heart and thy misery;
And never yet, or in spring-time's bloom,
Or summer-months laden with rich perfume,
Or Autumn's sun-shine, or Winter's rain,
Did the wretched-one hasten to me in vain.

"I am the spirit that loves to dwell
Within the "Forget-me-not's" fairy cell:
But when brother spirits to me resort,
In the roomy tulip I hold my court:

And when bells of the lily ring loud in the air,
The sylphs from each floweret are revelling there.
"Thou hast come to me-thou hast come to me-
In thy gloom of heart and thy misery:
And thou shalt find that the dews I meet,
In my world of flowers, are choice and sweet
As bee ever rifled, or summer-winds stole
From the violet's cup or the rose's bowl.

"Linger here 'till the eve has faded,
And the sky's dark hair with stars is braided:
Linger here 'till the night is o'er thee,

And the hills and the valleys lie dark before thee;

And when three bright stars shall fall from above, Turn to the west and thou'lt see thy love.