How shall I trace this, the happiest period of my life! when days and weeks rolled on, and left no track behind, save in that delicious calm that stole over my senses gradually and imperceptibly. Each morning saw me on my way to Castle Bellew: the mountain-path that led up from the little strand was well worn by my footsteps I knew its every turn and winding; scarcely a dog-rose bloomed along the way with which I had not grown familiar. And now each object spoke to my heart!-for I was happy! The clouds that moved above; the rippling tide that flowed beneath; the sunny shore; the shady thicket;-were all to me as though I had known them from boyhood. For so it is, in our glad moments we cling to all things that surround us; and giving to external nature the high colouring of our own hearts, we feel how beautiful is this world! yet was my mind not all tranquil for often, as I hastened on, some passing thought would shoot across me. Where is this to end? Can I hope ever to overcome the deeprooted prejudices of my family, and induce them to receive amongst them as my wife, the beautiful and artless daughter of the wild west? or could I dare to expose her, on whom all my affections were centred, to the callous criticism of my fine lady-mother, and her fashionable friends in London? What right had I to stake her happiVOL. XX.-No. 117.

ness on such a chance ;-to take her from all the objects endeared to her by taste, by time, by long-hallowed associations, and place her amid those among whom the very charm of her untarnished nature would have made her their inferior?

Is it that trait of rebellious spirit, that would seem to leaven every portion of our nature, which makes our love strongest when some powerful barrier has been opposed to our hopes and wishes? or is it rather, that in the difficulties and trials of life, we discover those deeper resources of our hearts, that under happier auspices had lain dormant and unknown? I scarcely know but true it is, after such reflections as these, I ever hurried on the faster to meet her, more resolutely bent than ever, in weal or woe, to link my fortune with her own.

Though I returned each night to the priest's cottage, my days were entirely spent at Castle Bellew. How well do I remember every little incident that marked their tranquil course! The small breakfast-parlour, with its old Tudor window looking out upon the flower-garden: how often have I paced it, impatient for her coming; turning ever and anon to the opening door, when the old butler, with the invariable habitude of his kind, continually appeared with some portion of the breakfast equipage: how I started, as some distant door would shut and

open-some far-off foot-step on the stair; and wonder within myself, why felt she not some of this impatient longing. And when, at last, tortured with anxiety and disappointment, I had turned away towards the window, the gentle step, the rustling dress, and, more than all, the indescribable something that tells us we are near those we love, bespoke her coming-oh! the transport of that moment! With what a fervid glow of pleasure I sprang to meet her to touch her hand-to look upon her! How rapidly, too, I endeavoured to speak my few words of greeting, lest her father's coming might interfere with even this shortlived period of happiness; and, after all, how little meaning were the words themselves, save in the tone I spoke them!

Then followed our rambles through the large but neglected garden, where the rich-blossoming fruit-tree scented the air, loaded with all the fragrance of many a wild flower. Now strolling onwards-silent, but full of thought, we trod some dark and shaded alley; now entering upon some open glade, where a view of the far-off mountains would break upon us, or where some chance vista showed the deep blue sunny sea swelling with sullen roar against the rocky coast.

How often, at such times as these, have I asked myself if I could look for greater happiness than thus to ramble on, turning from the stupendous majesty of nature, to look into her eyes whose glance met mine so full of tender meaning; while words would pass between us, few and low-voiced, but all so thrilling their very accent spoke of love. Yet, amid all this, some agonizing doubt would shoot across me, that my affection was not returned; the very frankness of her nature made me fear: and when we parted at night, and I held my homeward way towards the priest's cottage, I would stop from time to time, conning over every word she spoke, calling to mind each trivial circumstance; and if by accident some passing word or jest-some look of raillery, recurred to my memory, how have the warm tears rushed to my eyes, as with my heart full to bursting, I muttered to myself, "She loves me not!" These fears would then give way to hope, as in my mind's eye she stood before me, all beaming in smiles :

and amid these alternate emotions, I trod my lonely path, longing for the morrow, when we should meet again, when I vowed within my heart to end my life of doubt by asking if she loved me. But with that morrow came the same spell of happiness that lulled me; and like the gambler who had set his life upon the die, and durst not throw, so did I turn with trembling fear from tempting the chance that might in a moment dispel the bright dream of my existence, and leave life bleak and barren to me for ever.

The month of August was drawing to a close, as we sauntered one fine evening towards the sea-shore. There was a little path which wound down the side of a bold crag, partly by steps

partly by a kind of sloping way, defended at the sides by a rude wooden railing, which led down upon the beach exactly at the spot where a well of clear spring water sprung up, and tracked its tiny stream into the blue ocean. This little spring, which was always covered by the sea at high water, was restored, on the tide ebbing, to its former purity, and bubbled away as before; and from this cause had obtained from the simple peasantry the reputation of being miraculous, and was believed to possess innumerable properties of healing and consoling.

I had often heard of it, but never visited it before; and thither we now bent our steps, more intent upon catching the glorious sunset that was glowing on the Atlantic, than of testing the virtues of St. Senan's well-for so was it called. The evening-an autumnal one-was calm and still; not a leaf stirred; the very birds vere hushed; and there was all that solemn silence that sometimes threatens the outbreak of a storm. As we descended the crag, however, the deep booming of the sea broke upon us, and between the foliage of the oak trees we could mark the heavy rolling of the mighty tide, as wave after wave swelled on, and then was dashed in foam and spray upon the shore. There was something peculiarly grand and almost supernatural in the heavy swell of the great sea, rearing its white crest afar, and thundering along the weather-beaten rocks, when every thing else was calm and unmoved around: the deep and solemn roar, echoing from many a rocky cavern, rose amid the crashing

spray that sent up a thin veil of mist, through which the setting sun was reflected in many a bright rainbow. It was indeed a glorious sight! and we stopped for several minutes gazing on it; when suddenly Louisa, letting go my arm, exclaimed, as she pointed downwards

"See! See the swell beneath that large black rock yonder; the tide is making fast; we must get quickly down, if you wish to test St. Senan's power."

:

I had no time left me to ask what peculiar virtues the saint dispensed through the mediation of his well, when she broke from my side, and hurried down the steep descent in a moment we had reached the shore, upon which already the tide was fast encroaching, and had marked with its dark stain the yellow sand within a few feet of the well. As we drew nearer, I perceived the figure of an old woman, bent with age, who seemed busily occupied sprinkling the water of the spring over something that, as I came closer, seemed like a sailor's jack t. She was repeating some words rapidly to herself; but on hearing our approach, she quickly collected her bundle together under her remnant of a cloak, and sat waiting our approach in silence.

"It's Molly Ban !" said Louisa suddenly, and growing pale as she spoke. "Give her something-if you have any money-I beseech you.'

There was no opportunity for inquiring further about her now: for the old woman slowly rose from the stone, by the aid of a stick, and stood confronting us. Her figure was singularly short-scarce four feet in height; but her head was enormously large, and her features, which were almost terrific in ugliness, were swarthy as a gipsy's; a man's hat was fastened upon her head by a red kerchief, which was knotted beneath her chin; a short cloak of faded scarlet, like what the peasantry of the west usually wear, covered her shoulders; beneath which a patched and many-coloured petticoat appeared, that reached to the middle of her legs, which, as well as her feet, were completely naked-giving a look of wildness and poverty in one so old I cannot attempt to convey.

The most singular part of her costume, however, was a rude collar she wore round her neck of sea shells

among which, here and there, I could detect some bits of painted and gilded carving, like fragments of a wreck. This strange apparition now stood opposite me, her dark eyes fixed steadily on my companion, to whom, unlike the people of the country, she never made the slightest reverence, or showed any semblance of respect.

"And was it to spy after me, Miss Loo, ye brought down yer sweetheart to the well this evening?" said the hag, in a harsh, grating voice, that seemed the very last effort of some suppressed passion.

Louisa's arm grasped mine, and I could feel it tremble with agitation as she whispered in my ear

"Give her money quickly; I know her."

"And is your father going to send me back to gaol because the cattle's got the rot amongst them? ha, ha, ha," said she, breaking into a wild, discordant laugh. "There 'ill be more mourning than for that, at Castle Bellew, before long."

Louisa leaned against me faint and almost falling, while, drawing out my purse hastily, I held forth my hand full of silver. The old hag clutched at it eagerly, and as her dark eyes flashed fire, she thrust the money into a pocket at her side, and again broke out into a horrid laugh.

"So, you're beginnin' to know me, are ye? Ye won't mock Molly Ban now, eh? no, faith, nor Mary Lafferty either, that turned me from the door and shut it agin me. Where 'ill her pride be to-morrow night, when they bring in her husband a corpse to her! Look at that."

With these words she threw her cloak on one side, and showed the blue jacket of a fisherman which I had seen her sprinkling with the water as we