he, frank, generous, and of a prepossessing exterior, united to the graces acquired in polished society, soon obtained the affections of the young and warm-hearted Spaniard. The margin of the mountain-stream, where I had for the first time beheld her, was their favourite resort, although the heights a few miles distant were covered with the "battle's dreadful array;" but the path of love seems doubly precious when it borders upon the "valley of the shadow of death."-To proceed with my simple narrative: Their vows were plighted, and they were betrothed; but under such circumstances, when a movement of the army, and, consequently, a battle, was expected every hour, they could only look forward to the period of their union in the termination of the war, or at least in the liberation of the Peninsula. One evening, while they were enjoying the glorious hour of sunset at their favourite haunt, they observed an officer on horseback gallop past at full speed towards the village; thither they immediately repaired, and found their suspicions realized. An order had arrived for a general movement of the army on the following morning before daybreak. I shall not attempt to paint the parting scene, but, having stated the circumstances under which it took place, leave it to the imagination of the reader, who will better conceive than I can describe the feelings of the poor Spanish girl on that night of sorrow, and on the succeeding day, when she was doomed to hear the heavy, ceaseless, and deepening boom of the cannon along the line of position occupied by the enemy, and when at nightfall she was roused from a state of the most agonizing suspense by the sight of her lover, borne back wounded and bleeding from the field of battle. At the first shock occasioned by the sad spectacle she passed from one fainting fit into another; but, recovering at length in some degree, nature found relief in a flood of tears. During the days and nights which he lingered in pain she never left his couch. In his moments of agony her bosom was his pillow, and the warm tears of pity and of love, welling from her heart, the balm that soothed his sufferings. But human aid was exhausted in vain,-the injury was too deep,-a vital part had been affected,-nature at length was worn out,-and he expired in her arms. He was buried, at his own request, on the banks of the stream where their vows had been plighted, and which was consecrated and made hallowed ground by the most sacred feelings of the heart. It is the general belief of the world that love cannot exist without hope. Of the falsehood of this opinion bear witness, ye countless tombs, decked with its garlands, and watered with its tears! Concealed from observation in the wood from which I had first seen the fair Spaniard, eve after eve did I behold her repair to the only spot in the wide wilderness of this world where her broken heart could find repose. One evening, however, I missed her. A se cond and a third passed, and still she came not as before. |