tion on me, and again addressed me as her father. I drew near to her, and spoke kindly to her, informing her of my real character. By this time she had recovered her recollection, and endeavoured to raise herself from her pillow, saying, with inimitable grace, 'I see my mistake, sir; you are not my father, though your dress at first bewildered me. Weak as my head is, and misguided as my imagination is, I for a moment conceived that I beheld my father, my poor father, once again; for O! she added, clasping her slender fingers, 'had it ever been possible for me to have forgotten the best, the most beloved of fathers, the objects now present must have restored my recollection. But O, my father! my father! you were never forgotten by your miserable daughter; and if I have had a single consolation since I have been in this place, it has resulted from the assurance that you were never permitted to know, or even to suspect, the unworthiness of your child! At this time a flood of tears seemed greatly to relieve her; and while she yielded to these natural expressions of sorrow, I explained my situation to her, and as I had no hope at that time of being left alone with her, took that occasion of representing to her my views of her condition, and of entreating her to accept an asylum beneath my roof, where assured her that she should be attended by a respectable female of the village, who had known her from infancy.

"Her reply to all this was cold and restrained: she expressed herself satisfied with her situation and the attentions paid her, leading me to suppose that she did not dare to speak her mind in the present company.

"As I did not understand, however, what she would have said had she been at liberty to speak, I proceeded to press her removal to my house, and especially pointed out to her the supreme importance of religion in her case, where little time might yet remain.

"She seemed to be deeply affected by my reasoning, and answered, 'Alas! those are blessed indeed, who are enabled to enjoy the consolations of religion in the hours of pain and sickness.'

“I was again about to urge the necessity of seeking these consolations, and had again tendered the shelter of my roof to the unfortunate lady, when I was interrupt

or those eyes which once had sparkled with an almost heavenly lustre.

"At the further end of the apartment sat a beautiful child, playing with flowers, which were scattered around her on the floor, some of which she was endeavouring to fasten in the auburn ringlets which shaded in some degree her dimpled features.

By the side of the sofa sat two females, whose appearances were such as made me the less wonder at the words which I had heard issuing from the mouth of one of them.

They were tall and majestic persons, and once, no doubt, could have boasted of beauty; but the day of their attractions was evidently past, and the means which they had adopted to supply that of which time had deprived them were, as usual, inadequate to the desired end: for there is but one possession which can afford any sufficient substitute in the place of decayed beauty, and that is the possession of holiness; this does, in some degree, triumph over age itself, and diffuse a charm over the withered countenance. On these persons I bestowed not a second glance, but again fixed my eye on the lady; nor can it be conceived what I felt while reflecting on the imprudences (to use a word too mild for the occasion) which had brought her to a situation of such inexpressible distress.

"The two attendants were the first persons who observed me; and the unhappy Comtesse, being directed by their eyes to the spot where I stood, uttered a piercing shriek, and either calling me her father, or else apostrophizing that dear parent, fainted on her pillow.

"The two attendants, enraged beyond measure at my intrusion, instantly charged me with endangering the life of the lady, whom they now affected to treat with the utmost tenderness, hastening to procure water and other restoratives. In the mean time, they commanded me to withdraw, notwithstanding which, I kept my station, and declared my determination not to leave the lady till she was in a situation to speak to me.

"While this was passing, the Comtesse revived, and opening her eyes with a deep sigh, she fixed her atten

tion on me, and again addressed me as her father. I drew near to her, and spoke kindly to her, informing her of my real character. By this time she had recovered her recollection, and endeavoured to raise herself from her pillow, saying, with inimitable grace, 'I see my mistake, sir; you are not my father, though your dress at first bewildered me. Weak as my head is, and misguided as my imagination is, I for a moment conceived that I beheld my father, my poor father, once again; for O! she added, clasping her slender fingers, 'had it ever been possible for me to have forgotten the best, the most beloved of fathers, the objects now present must have restored my recollection. But O, my father! my father! you were never forgotten by your miserable daughter; and if I have had a single consolation since I have been in this place, it has resulted from the assurance that you were never permitted to know, or even to suspect, the unworthiness of your child! At this time a flood of tears seemed greatly to relieve her; and while she yielded to these natural expressions of sorrow, I explained my situation to her, and as I had no hope at that time of being left alone with her, took that occasion of representing to her my views of her condition, and of entreating her to accept an asylum beneath my roof, where assured her that she should be attended by a respectable female of the village, who had known her from infancy.

"Her reply to all this was cold and restrained: she expressed herself satisfied with her situation and the attentions paid her, leading me to suppose that she did not dare to speak her mind in the present company.

"As I did not understand, however, what she would have said had she been at liberty to speak, I proceeded to press her removal to my house, and especially pointed out to her the supreme importance of religion in her case, where little time might yet remain.

"She seemed to be deeply affected by my reasoning, and answered, 'Alas! those are blessed indeed, who are enabled to enjoy the consolations of religion in the hours of pain and sickness.'

"I was again about to urge the necessity of seeking these consolations, and had again tendered the shelter of my roof to the unfortunate lady, when I was interrupt

ed by the attendants, on whom the comtesse looked with a degree of terror which it was impossible for her to disguise; and finding that it was useless to press the matter further at the present time, I took my leave, secretly resolving to lose no opportunity of attempting the deliverance of this unfortunate and miserable woman. She looked after me as I left the room with such an expression, as filled my heart with anguish; yet neither dared to request my stay, nor to invite my return.

"I was followed to the outer door of the lodge, by the two females whom I had seen in the Comtesse's room, and I heard the locks secured behind me, as I descended the steps of the piazza.

"When arrived at my own house, I summoned together some of those persons who had been most attached to my pious predecessor, and we agreed to watch every opportunity of rescuing the Comtesse from her present unhappy situation.

"This opportunity did not, however, offer for some days; for we were informed of the return of the principal servant of the Marquis that very evening, and perceived that every avenue of the lodge was closely shut or carefully guarded.

"Towards the end, however, of this same week, a little shepherd-boy, who was employed in the care of a few sheep, and who by my desire had driven them several times across the ground in which the lodge was situated, brought me a little note, written on a leaf which had evidently been torn from a book, and which he said had been thrown to him by a child who was playing in the verandah of the lodge as he passed by. 'It was a beautiful child,' he said, 'and richly dressed;' adding, moreover, that when it was observed by some one within that some communication was passing between him and the child, the latter was instantly called to return within doors.

"I opened the note; it contained only a few words, which were to this effect:-'On Sunday evening the servants who wait upon me will probably be all engaged; there is to be a fete of some kind among them. It might prove a favourable opportunity for my deliverance, but I know not how to plan it. I am compelled

to trust this paper to my infant child: I have no friend but my child.' The note was signed, 'The miserable Estelle.'

"This was indeed a call, and such a one as could not be resisted. Accordingly, when it was dusk on the Sunday evening, I collected my faithful villagers, under the covert of a grove, which was very close upon the back of the lodge, and indeed so near that we heard the sounds of the mirth and revelling from within.

"As the darkness increased, we passed round the back of the building, and came opposite to the chamber of the poor lady: the windows were closed, but we could distinguish her lying upon her couch, and saw no one in the room. The windows were not formed as they are in England, but like double doors of glass; they were bolted within. I knocked gently on the glass; on which the lady raised her head and gave me a sign to enter. I had nothing else to do but to burst a pane, which I did with as little noise as possible, and slipping the bolt, went in, followed by my companions. Not a word was spoken. The Comtesse pointed to the child, which was sleeping on the couch beside her. It was my business to take her up as quietly as possible, while the peasants lifted the couch on which the mother lay, and the next minute we were at some distance from the lodge, and had plunged into the obscurity of the wood.

"I hardly know how we made our escape: but such was the swiftness of our motion, that in a few minutes we found ourselves at the door of my cottage, where the Comtesse, who had fainted, probably from the effect of terror, was presently laid in bed, and consigned to the care of an old and pious female, who had not unfrequently been occupied in the care of her in her infant days.

"It was some time before the Comtesse revived; but her first inquiry, when she opened her eyes, was after her child: and when assured that she was actually sleeping in an inner chamber, her mind reverted to her own situation. She looked wildly round her on every well-known object in the chamber, became bewildered and delirious, called on her father, begged that he might be awakened and brought to her, and told us that she had been in a long, long, shocking dream, in which she had fancied many dreadful things.