not, would not betray him. Yet again how could she answer it to her conscience to allow him to proceed unchecked in his ambitious purpose, blood would be upon her soul, the cry of the widow and the orphan would rise up in accusation to heaven against her, she must be answerable for all the violence committed by exasperated and brutal victors, and she sickened at the bare imagination of all the horrors which would befal the hapless wretches sacrificed to her affection for a man perchance unwor thy of her love; clasping one hand upon her forehead, and placing the other over her heart to still the throbbing pulses which beat as though they would burst their confines, she strove to collect her scattered thoughts, and endeavoured to strike out some middle course by which she might preserve the city and secure the life of the gallant Burgundian. Plan after plan presented itself only to be rejected, Linda knew that she dared not trust to the most solemn oaths taken by the rulers of Leige, they had been too often perjured and forsworn to regard the disgrace and infamy attached to their broken pledges, and she dared not hope that they would forego their long baffled revenge upon one whom they feared and hated more deeply and more bitterly even than the Prince of darkness himself. Morning came and found the agitated girl still undecided how to act, but an incident occurred which determined her to trust to the foes who threatened the gates rather than to the ungrateful people of Leige. Franz whose greatest fault was his too ardent zeal in the service of the government, was arrested by break of day and dragged to prison upon some frivolous charge, his false friend Wilkin de Metz being the accuser: and aware that the disgrace of a person who had been entrusted with a share in the administration was invariably followed by death, Linda felt assured that the only chance of rescuing her kinsman from the block was to treat with Lothaire, she was fortunately not ignorant of the art of writing; an accomplishment uncommon at this period, and having inscribed upon a fair roll of parchment the extent of her knowledge relative to the intended assault, she declared her intention to reveal the whole matter to the council unless he and his followers would sign a solemnly attested treaty, guaranteeing the security of all private property. and the safety of the inhabitants from all injury and insult; which document she required should be deposited at the shrine of the virgin in the Church of Notre-Dame by a particular hour. Resolved not to make a confidant, Linda prepared to be the bearer of her own dispatch, and attiring herself in the garb of a page, she wrapped a cloak around her, stole out of the house of which she was now mistress by a private way, and carrying a lance head to the forge to be new pointed, whispered a word of caution in the Blacksmith's ear, and placing the scroll in his hand, hastily retreated. It was now necessary to assume another disguise and to repair to the Church. Clad in the weeds of a penitent, she stationed herself at a convenient distance from the shrine where she ran no danger of being exposed to observation, praying fervently for the success of her plan, yet scarcely able to fix her thoughts upon the Saint whose aid she sought, she anxiously awaited the time in which she might venture to approach the spot where she hoped to find a paper from Lothaire, many persons had already performed their orisons before the altar, and as the clock rang the appointed hour, every stroke smote upon her heart, and she had scarcely strength to drag her trembling limbs towards the shrine, where deposited in the niche which she had named, she discovered and drew forth the answer of the Burgundian. It contained the pledge she had demanded, and though evidently wrung reluctantly from the Knight's hand by the exigence of the moment, it was full, complete and satisfactory, and Linda doubted not that it would be held sacred and inviolate, for the honour of Lothaire de Lichstervelden whose name engrossed the parchment had ever been unstained. Retiring to her solitary home, Linda, aware that the crisis was at hand, stationed herself at a window to watch the event, having, without exciting any attention taken proper precautions to provide for the security of the house. The usual evening crowd had assembled round the forge, and the same bustle and activity as heretofore prevailed, but the Blacksmith himself was absent; however there was no lack of gaiety, the loud laugh and the oft repeated burthen of some old song resounded to the clank of the anvil and the fall of the sledge hammer. Gradually, as upon other occasions the assembly dropped off, the fires decayed, and at length all was silent and deserted, the cyclops apparently tired of their work withdrew to their lairs to snatch a few hours of repose. Midnight approached; was passed, and all was yet still and solitary as the grave. But shortly after the clock had struck the half hour, Linda's eyes piercing the deep shade, detected groupes of two and three together, stealing out under the gloom of the overhanging wall and dispersing themselves noiselessly throughout the city. As the night advanced, the numbers thus emerging from the forge encreased, and one figure taller and more commanding than the rest, betrayed the Knight Blacksmith to the anxious girl; soon afterwards a signal struck the watchful Linda's ear, the Cathedral chimes were altered and the notes prolonged, all still remained profoundly tranquil, but in another hour there arose a stir and tumult in the city, bells tolled and were suddenly stopped, windows and doors rattled, a cry of treason ran through the streets, mingled with the clashing of swords and the groans of the wounded. Then the drums beat to arms, the trumpet sounded: but it was all too late, day dawned and the bewildered Leigeois found the arsenal and all the principal places in the hands of Count Lothaire's men at arms, the garrison disarmed, and the Magistrates in prison. The Duke of Burgundy's ensign waved from every tower, steeple and pinnacle, and before ten o'clock in the morning; two of the most factious of the Burgesses, men who had burnt the Duke Philip and his son in effigy, reversing their arms as those of traitors, had been tried by their fellow citizens, condemned and executed, and their heads mounted upon poles at the principal gates, no other person suffered, and Franz released from prison by the hand of Count Lothaire, led his deliverer to his sister's feet, and gladly gave his consent to her union with the Blacksmith of Leige. STANZAS. BY DAVID LESTER RICHARDSON. I. Oh! deem not that my heart is cold By some deep sense of wrong; IL But oft upon my sunniest hour While shades prophetic round me lour And every scene appals; I could not tell thee whence or why This wild o'erwhelming change, That makes what else might charm mine eye III. As sometimes o'er the brightest day So dreams of darkness and dismay I see such mystic visions now THE XIII. ODE OF THE 1ST BOOK OF HORACE, TRANSLATED. (Horace being jealous of Telephus, thus writes to his Mistress, Lydia.) Oh, Lydia when of Telephus Thou dost commend the charms, The rosy neck of Telephus, And Telephus's arms; Oh, whether contests unrestrained, Yet trust not, (if thou 'It deign to hear) Thrice happy, oh supremely blessed THE MERCHANT'S DAUGHTER. CHAPTER IV. Unheard of impudence! MASS. It is to a period, gentle reader, somewhat subsequent to the event which left the body of Louis Le Desiré (or as some people facetiously wrote during the hundred days Le Dés-sire) to the worms, and his character to the newspapers that our story bears us to Paris, to the Boulevard des Italiens. The sun-shine glittered on the leaves of infrequent trees, skirting a pathway, where flower-girls, whip-sellers, dog-fanciers (the name has a meaning at least in England) and ten thousand itinerant trades solicited the attention of customers: every thing was there, "Gloves as sweet as damask roses; besides here and there a stray professor of the occult sciences, and more numerous practitioners in the fine arts: quacks and mountebanks, fiddlers and ballad singers, which together with dancing, dogs, puppets, bears and monkeys conspired to form a scene sufficiently amusing for the capital of a thinking people. And a thinking people the French had already become: It was no longer a matter of indifference with them who filled the chair of Clovis whether the sapless branches of a withered tree, the scions of St. Louis, or their Corsican despot. Neither were they any longer content with "the fiddle and the frisk.”* These by no means engrossed their attention or filled the scope of their existence; and perhaps there was not one among their ranks to whom it was not a matter of thought that the genius of the Bourbons seemed so opposed to freedom-that he did not hear the King say* slave be free!" But whether this uneasiness originated in a good principle, or whether it was only their old disease, national vanity, showing itself in another shape, time alone can prove. If it were the latter, however, it had in one respect at least taken a strange direction. It had led to an extraordinary predilection for every thing English Boxing no less than politics was in high repute: professed mas ** See Cowper. |