fled. As, however, the lovers were aware that their stratagem must speedily be discovered, they determined to get united in wedlock at all risks. This was no difficult matter, happening to be in Paris at the time.

Father Bernardo was an orthodox son of the church, to appearance at least. Lean and sallow abstinence had long been a foreigner to his cell at Montmartre. If a young noble demanded a secret union with his mistress according to the rites of the holy church, the good man was ever ready to tie the knot, for proper considerations, with which he never dispensed. Now and then the recesses of his sojourn concealed a light offender against the laws; for who would dream of searching there for a criminal? it would have been an insult to religion itself! Thither hied our lovers on tiptoe with palpitating hearts. Before the crucifix, in the cold stone cell, knelt the fond pair; behind it was a small door which led to a little room some six feet square; (there father Bernardo kept his potables and various comforts for the edification of the internal man); the service was nearly concluded—when a feeble voice, strengthened somewhat by rage, screamed out "Bernardo !" and in a moment, just behind the crucifix, up rose the wigless head of Count D'Arcy! the wig had dropped off during his hitherto stifled passion; the black from his eyebrows streamed down and mingled with the rouge on his cheek. Regardless at first of his concealed situation, he forbade the conclusion of the service. It had proceeded too far to make

what remained unrecited of any consequence. Fear mingled with his anger when he recollected that he had disclosed his place of concealment to his rival. The intercession of Bernardo, however, produced an agreement, written and witnessed by himself, to the effect, that in consideration of the non-disclosure of his hiding place, he should resign all pretensions to Isabelle, to which he the more willingly acceded as the recent ceremony made an opposite line of conduct of no avail. The Chevalier and Isabelle presented themselves to her father, who was soon reconciled; while the trick played off on the old coxcomb D'Arcy even now furnishes a joke to the good people of Blois in their proverb "toothless dogs should chuse old mates."

that

C.R.

THE HIGHLAND HUNTER'S CORONACH.

BY JOHN GIBSON, ESQ.

I'LL wake it no more

By Strath-Fillan's blue fountain,
By Achray's lonely shore,

Or Benledi's high mountain —
No more wake the sound

Of the hunter's bold bugle;
For in death's narrow mound
Lies my loved Coilantugal !

How oft has that horn

To the chase hailed his coming,

At the first break of morn,

Ere the bee raised its humming;

Ere the maid, blithe of mood,

To the ewe-bught was wending, -
While each spray of the wood

With the dew-drops was bending.

H

74

HIGHLAND HUNTER'S CORONACH.

When the fox from the shade

Of the pine-wood was peeping;
When the deer through the glade
In the grey dawn was leaping;
When the mist of the hills

From the sun-rise was flying;
And no sound -save the rills
And the wild breezes sighing -

Then - oh, then the far cry
Of his deep-baying beagle,
From her eyrie on high

How it startled the eagle!
Roused the stag from his rest
In the glen of green braiken-
But no more its loud quest
Coilantugal shall waken!

Ay! now may his hounds
In the paddock lie idle,
And the steed roam his bounds
Unrestrained by the bridle;

The proud pibroch may blow,

But its note shall not cheer him

O'er his breast the brown roe

May leap wild and not fear him!

I'll wake it no more

By Strath-Fillan's blue fountain ! &c.

THE MINSTREL'S LOVE.

BY ALLAN CUNNINGHAM, ESQ.

YE haughty dames all scented sweet,
Who dance in jewelled dresses,

Go paint yourselves, and plume yourselves,
And price and purchase tresses :
Or trip along in tittering ranks

For man's supreme inspection;
Or proudly rein your swan-white necks
And pass him like infection.
Your foreign airs, and Florence hairs,
And all your spangled plumage,
Are nought to me, my heart is free
From all save Nature's homage.

O give me one whose loveliness
Will grace my Minstrel story;
Whose gentleness and kindliness

Are Nature's pride and glory :