to-morrow morning," said the incorrigible Lucus as he left our heroine to contemplate, alone, the bitterness of this the last cup of sorrow which was being mixed to cap the climax of all her mighty trials. "Is this a dream? Oh! if it be a dream, "It is a dream, sweet child-a waking dream, Of that rare happiness which even on earth Heaven gives to those it loves."-LONGFELLOW. THE sun had sunk once more behind the western horizon. Alonzo lay bound upon his back in the same place that but a little while ago had sheltered himself, and the father of Mahalinda. "Oh! where art thou, Leander, that thou comest not to my relief? This is the third night that I have been on this miserable island, and yet he comes not. If he delays yet one more, it will be too late, for they say, that to-morrow I must die! "What! did I say die? Is this, then, the last twilight I shall ever see? Have I found the object which I have sought so long, only to perish? Have I had a foretaste of that bliss which I have craved with so much ardor, only to relinquish it now, and that forever? These things can not be. If I really thought they would, I should be a madman before midnight. But see! how fast the shades come downTime flies like lightning. It will soon be day again, and then-I hope Leander will be here. Oh! that I might at this moment hear the tramp of his menthe clash of his sword, dealing death to these cowardly devils! But should he not come? That's the question, after all. Well, I suppose I must die-yet it is a hard task, even for the sake of Mahalinda, and my country too. Indeed, without the one, I might easier die for the other. It is the love I have for Mahalinda that makes me cling so tenaciously to life. If I had never seen her, I could sacrifice my all at the shrine of freedom; but now I desire to live while she lives, and die when she dies, that I may protect her from all injury while she is here, and not be left when she is gone, to share one single drop of peace, alone. "I wonder if she knows my fate-or what my doom is to be? Oh! I hope not! Twould tear her tender heart, and melt her heaven-painted eye. The more I think about it, the more excited I get! "O Mahalinda, Mahalinda! I can not leave thee! Oh! no, I can not die, unless by my death I could do thee some good! "To die, and yet for thee to live, and be wronged and ruined by a base and worthless villain, is more torture to my soul than the pangs of dying, a thousand times experienced !" Thus thought, and thus spoke poor Alonzo, endeavoring to put off the evil hour, trying to beat back the plain visage of Truth, which, like a ghost, comes nearer, and stares him more frightfully in the face, at every new attack. Let us leave him awhile, and turn to Mahalinda. Pale and dejected, she sits watching sorrowfully the coming of night. How lone and desolate she feels, with not but one kindred spirit near, and that must soon be an inhabitant of eternity! She starts at every sound, for she is expecting at every moment the coming of her destroyer. A moment passes, and her worst fears "have boded all too true." Accompanied by another, dressed in a long white gown, the fell monster approaches. "Come, rise, Miss Upshire, the hour is at hand; I have brought a clergyman, and there lacks nothing now to hinder our marriage." The poor girl uttered a faint scream, and fell senseless to the floor. "Never mind," said Lucus, "go on with the ceremony, Mr. Vansant." He took hold of the cold hand of his victim-the mock service was finished, he stooped to kiss the bloodless lips of his bride. But just at that moment a sound broke upon his car that riveted him to the spot where he stood. It was the summons Heaven had sent for his black and sinful soul! The hour of retribution was at hand, and vengeance was on his bloody track. The cries, the tears, and the prayers of injured innocence and virtue, had at last touched the chords of Justice, and the avenging angel flapped his dark, heavy wings in the midst of that encampment of fiends in human shape. "To arms! to arms!" resounded from every quar ter; but there stood Lucus and Vansant quivering with fear, and dreading to look at each other. Presently a roll of heavy musketry shook the very ground, and when it a little subsided, the cries of a score of wretches arose upon the night air, sending a chill to the stoutest heart. Now the action waxed to its hottest. The battle raged incessantly. Musket reverberated to the roar of musket, and steel clashed sharply against steel. The Americans gain the prison-house of Alonzo. Leander rushes in; they shout as the two young men embrace each other: and that shout, so near and loud, awakens the stupid senses of the captain and lieutenant of the tories, and they essay to make their escape. Wildly they fly for the door; but the eager Alonzo, snatching up the sword of a fallen soldier, and followed by the impetuous Leander, confronts them at the very threshold. A short conflict ensues. The old, gray-haired Dutchman, fighting with the desperation of a tiger, falls before the vigorous arm of Alonzo; while Leander, with his foot upon the neck of his fallen foe, and holding high his dripping sword, cries in a voice that is heard above the din of arms and the howls of the dying: "Sie semper tyrannis!" Happily for Mahalinda, she woke not from the swoon into which she had fallen at the sight of Lucus, until the fighting was over. When she did open her large blue eyes again, now almost dim with weeping, Alonzo was upon his knees beside her, chafing her brow, and looking earnestly |