had a glass in his hand turned it towards the sea, some on one side of the ship, some on the other. It was Ludovic FitzHugh who had fallen overboard; and Edgar Howard quickly perceived the fair head of his young favourite just above the water, as the boy had risen to the surface. He perceived, too, through his glass, one of those monsters of the deep, a shark, slowly coming towards the drowning boy. The shark was still at a distance; Ludovic might be saved.

"Lower a boat instantly!" was the order given by the captain; and the men prepared with alacrity to obey. But, before it could be got ready, Edgar Howard had thrown off his coat, had plunged into the sea, and was swimming vigorously towards the helpless boy. He reached

him, and seized hold of him just as he was going down again.

66

Clasp your arms round my waist," he exclaimed, "and hold on!" But Ludovic did not hear him; there was a rushing of water in his ears, he was stunned by the fall, and seemed stupified. Grasping his arm, therefore, firmly, Edgar Howard began to make the best of his way back to the ship, but the current was against him, and the half-drowned boy was a heavy load to bear along. He used his utmost efforts, for he thought of the dire enemy which was doubtless pursuing them. Glancing over his shoulder, he perceived with horror that the shark had become more active, and was gaining upon them. With lips white from terror, and eyes almost blinded by the perspiration that was pouring down from his forehead, Edgar prayed in an agony of soul:

"My God! my God! have mercy, and save us !"

The prayer was heard, and answered-for at that moment the boat from the ship came dashing through the waters, creating quite a track of foam as it swept on. It was near-it was close-and, with almost supernatural strength, Edgar Howard raised the insensible boy and flung him to the sailors, who caught him in their arms, and laid him gently down at the bottom of the boat, raising his head a little by placing under it a bit of board and a sailor's jacket.

The brave young lieutenant, who had so generously risked his life, was still in the sea, but so close to the boat that he was just getting into it: when the shark came up, with its enormous jaws wide open. It made a movement forward with its frightful head, as if to seize the leg which was not yet within the boat, and which it could have snapped off with as much ease as the slenderest reed could have been broken asunder. The poor leg was in imminent danger, when one of the sailors in the boat, with great presence of mind, seized an oar, and stuck it into the ferocious creature's throat, thus giving time for his lieutenant to get his leg within the shelter of the boat.

"Pull, my lads!" cried the officer in command, give us trouble yet!"

"or the monster may

And powerfully they did pull, but the shark was not willing so easily to lose its prey; it broke the oar in two, ejected the pieces from its mouth, and swam after the boat. The spirited little party, however, soon gained their ship. The insensible midshipman was first carried up, then the almost exhausted Edgar Howard was assisted to mount the side of the vessel, and in a very few minutes they were all once more standing in safety on its noble deck, amidst the loud hurrahs of the rest of the crew.

A mattress and pillow had been brought on deck, and the senseless Ludovic was placed on it, while the surgeon and Howard, still in his wet clothes, made every effort to restore animation to the poor little midshipman. For a time they almost despaired of success, but at length Ludovic opened his eyes, while a faint smile passed over his lips. He breathedhe lived, and the surgeon exultingly exclaimed:

"He will do now he will soon recover!" Then turning to Edgar, he advised him to go and put on dry clothes, lest he should get the fever, which would not be easily shaken off.

The shark, disappointed of its prey, still hovered around the ship, and some of the sailors wished to harpoon it and bring it on deck; but the captain objected to this, on the score that killing the horrid creature would cause a great mess on the deck, and there would hardly be time to clean it up before they reached the bay ahead of them.

"We must not, however," he added, "enter the harbour with a shark in our wake, or the negroes, who are very superstitious, will think it an evil omen, and say that we are bringing death with us. We had better

throw a good junk of pork to it, and get rid of it, if possible."

A large piece of pork was brought up, and after the boatswain had amused himself by ramming an old rusty iron fork well into it, the pork was thrown over to the ravenous animal, who instantly swallowed it, fork and all, and then slowly disappeared.

Naval officers are always welcome guests in the West India islands; and those of the Albion were warmly greeted, more especially when the episode of the shark, the drowning boy, and his gallant preserver, became known. Edgar Howard was the lion of the day in the little community, and, as may be supposed, he was received as a son and a brother at Boyne Hall, on account of the great service he had rendered the family who resided there, in saving their dear Ludovic. The gallant young lieutenant was a favourite with them all; but there was one among them who looked upon him as almost more than mortal.

Coralie saw her beau idéal realised in him; and though she knew that she was bound to another, she could not repress the sentiments in his favour that were springing up in her heart. Indeed, she scarcely wished to repress them; it was so delightful to love, and to be loved! For Edgar Howard took no pains to conceal the more than admiration he felt for the charming sister of his young friend. He knew nothing of Coralie's. engagement to the absent Mr. Babington, whose name he had never even heard mentioned in the family, else his nice sense of honour would have induced him to abstain from showing her the least attention. It was not possible for him to guess that Coralie could be the destined bride of such a man as Mr. Babington, of whom he heard nothing but evil from others, although no allusion to him was ever made at Boyne Hall. Edgar knew that he could not marry just then, but he thought that if Coralie were willing to wait a little time, as they were both very young, he might obtain from his kind uncle, Mr. Montague, the means of supporting a wife, and he was aware, in the long run, he would have a large fortune, as his uncle had told him he was to be his principal heir.

There was nothing, then, to prevent his indulging his dreams respect ing Coralie; and though poor Coralie knew that it was all a dream-a

dream the remembrance of which would increase, if that were possible, the misery of her future life-she could not deny herself a brief period of happiness.

"Why should I?" she said to her sister. "Mr. Babington chose to put off the hateful marriage; he never even asked me to write to him; he knows that he is only buying me, as a rich Turk would buy a Circassian female. After the purchase is made, I shall have a laborious duty to perform; until then I am free, for what is he to me? And I will enjoy this short-lived freedom-this little interval of happiness, the last, the last that ever will be mine!"

"But, dearest Coralie, why should you let yourself be sold to that odious person? My advice to you is to marry Mr. Howard, and get rid of Babington for ever," replied Malvina.

"If I wished to follow your advice, Malvina, I could not do it. Mr. Howard has not made the most distant allusion to my marrying him, and the ship is going away soon. Ah! I shall lose my darling Ludovic and his delightful friend! After they go, all will be black night before me!"

"I could take my oath that Mr. Howard cares for you, Coralie, dear. Only yesterday evening you must have seen how his whole soul was in his eyes, as he sang one of Moore's Irish melodies. Though I was accompanying him on the pianoforte, I could not help observing the expression of his face at these words:

Believe me if all those endearing young charms,

Which I gaze on so fondly to-day,

Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms,

Like fairy gifts fading away,

Thou would'st still be adored, as this moment thou art.

Coralie, that young man felt what he sang, and you felt it too, for there were tears in your eyes, replying to the fire in his."

"Ah! Malvina, do not dazzle my poor brain with poetry, romance, love, and happiness! For me there is nothing but stern, cold reality." "I wish that fellow Babington would jilt you, and marry some vulgar rich girl in England, or break his neck, or be drowned-anything, so that you were rid of him!" cried Malvina.

"There is no chance of any of these events happening," said Coralie. "He will come back safe and sound, and I, please God, will do at any sacrifice to myself!"

my duty

One of the greatest men of the present age, the Confederate hero, General Lee, has said that "duty is the sublimest word in the language." This is a splendid remark, and full of truth. For what sacrifices, what self-control, what patience, what sufferings, what noble sentiments, are not often required in the performance of duty!

Two or three evenings after the above conversation between the sisters, Coralie felt very sad, and she betook herself to her favourite haunt, her

Lone rock by the sea.

It was on the shore of a miniature bay not far from Boyne Hall; there was a narrow pathway that led down from the road to the beach, and that path, perfumed by the fragrance of the wild sage and one or two other odoriferous plants, was often traversed by Coralie. Skirting the

little bay was a double row of cocoa-nut-trees, their heads drooping gracefully towards the sea, as if there were some magnetic influence in the sparkling waves. The firm sand itself was almost as bright as gold, and the eye might have been fatigued with its glare, but for the softened tone afforded by the wild potato-vine which grew on the sea-shore, with its green leaves and lovely flowers creeping here and there, and the pink lining of the king conch, and the beautiful tints of other shells, lying half embedded in the sand.

Coralie sat on her favourite rock, gazing now

Upon the glowing tide,

now

On the flower-enamelled sand;

then on

The golden sunset, whose soft light
O'er foliage, flower, and rock was shed
In purple glow.

And her thoughts began to form themselves into verse, for she was fond of versifying, especially when she was in a melancholy humour. She drew a pencil and a tiny MS. book from her pocket, and was busy repeating to herself and writing down the lines that occurred to her, when she suddenly heard a quiet step close to her, and a voice, which always seemed music to her ears, said:

"I have been looking everywhere for you, Miss Coralie; in the bananawalk, in the bamboo-grove, where that sweet little streamlet murmurs so softly, and amidst the shaddock and orange-trees in the garden."

"These are charming spots," replied Coralie, "but I like the lonely sea-shore better than them all. It is a mingled pleasure and pain to me to look upon that vast ocean before us. Ah! what happiness and what misery it can bring!"

"It has brought great happiness to me, at least, I gratefully acknowledge," replied Edgar Howard, "since it brought me to this lovely island, and afforded me the opportunity of knowing you. But do let me see or hear the lines you were repeating and writing down when I, so stupidly, interrupted you."

"They are not worth your listening to or reading," said Coralie; "but here they are. I have got a bad habit of rhyming sometimes when I am alone."

The little poem was

SUNSET IN THE WEST INDIES.

'Tis sweet on the shelly beach to roam,
To gaze where the sparkling billows foam,
That shine in a thousand colours bright,
Caught from yon stream of golden light.

How gaily Ocean's waves seem dancing!
And see-its azure tints are glancing
As if bright gems of every hue
Were floating on its waters blue.

Look up from Ocean's dazzling breast,
And gaze upon the splendid west!
These gorgeous crimson clouds behold!
Blending with yonder rays of gold.

The brilliant tropic sun hath set,
But its tints of glory linger yet
A moment on the wave and sky
To charm the gazer's wondering eye.
And now they fade-that rosy light
Has sunk into the shades of night:
Emblem of all that's bright on earth,
Of all that's fair of mortal birth!

To mock the eye-the wish-the heart-
Wake slumbering Fancy, then depart;
A lustre on our path to shed,

But deeper gloom around to spread!

Edgar Howard, in his partiality for the fair girl, praised her verses, and her truthful description of a West Indian sunset, but he said he did not know why she should have concluded her little poem in a tone so melancholy.

"Why must all that is bright on earth," he asked, "only shine to mock the eye and the heart ?"

Why, it is not for me to explain. I only know that it is so."

"No, no, dearest Coralie!" he cried, impetuously, and forgetting the "Miss" this time. "You are the fairest, the brightest object on earth to me, and I am sure you would not willingly mock my heart-I mean, the homage of my heart-which is, pardon the blunt avowal, devoted to you. This world will be all a paradise to me, as, blessed with your society, this sweet island seems, if you will only give me some hope-hope that on a future, yet not far distant day, I may return to try and win your love, and that till then you will remember me with kindly feelings." Coralie turned away; she could not command her voice to speak, her heart was too full.

"Have I offended you?" asked the young officer, throwing himself on the sands at her feet. "You think me presumptuous, venturing too far ?"

"Oh no!" she said, in a faltering tone, while the tears began to flow, in spite of her utmost efforts to restrain them. "I-I thank you most gratefully for your kind sentiments, as gratefully as I thank you for your noble generosity in saving my darling brother; but, whatever I may feel, I dare not express more than thanks. I trust we may always be friends," she continued, as she rose from the rock on which she had been sitting, and he too sprang to his feet; "more we can never be."

"Why, why?" he exclaimed, seizing her hand, and carrying it to his lips.

"Because," she answered, mournfully, "an evil fate has destined me for another!"

6

Edgar Howard looked as if stunned; he became deadly pale. "Good Heavens! what can you mean? An evil fate has destined you for another!' If you think it an evil fate,' you cannot love that other?" He paused, and looked inquiringly in her face.

"Love him! Oh no, no!

Let us not speak of it!"

But my

doom is fixed; I cannot escape it.

"But I must speak of it. I must know what so concerns my own future happiness.' And he questioned the poor girl, until she had confided to him the whole history of her approaching sacrifice.