ship. Henceforth, to me you are Millicent Nutter; though to others you must still be Alizon Device. My sweet Millicent," she cried, embracing her again and again, "ah, little, little did I think to see you

more !"

Alizon's fears were speedily chased away.

"Forgive me, dear mother," she cried, "if I have failed to express the full delight I experience in my restitution to you. The shock of your sad tale at first deadened my joy, while the suddenness of the information respecting myself so overwhelmed me, that, like one chancing upon a hidden treasure, and gazing at it confounded, I was unable to credit my own good fortune. Even now I am quite bewildered; and no wonder, for many thoughts, each of different import, throng upon me. Independently of the pleasure and natural pride I must feel in being acknowledged by you as a daughter, it is a source of the deepest satisfaction to me to know that I am not, in any way, connected with Elizabeth Device; not from her humble station-for poverty weighs little with me in comparison with virtue and goodness but from her sinfulness. You know the dark offence laid to her charge?"

"I do," replied Mistress Nutter, in a low deep tone.; believe it."

"but I do not

"Nor I," returned Alizon. "Still she acts as if she were the wicked thing she is called; avoids all religious offices; shuns all places of worship; and derides the Holy Scriptures. Oh! mother, you will comprehend the frequent conflict of feelings I must have endured. You will understand my horror when I have sometimes thought myself the daughter of a witch."

"Why did you not leave her if you thought so?" said Mistress Nutter, frowning.

"I could not leave her," replied Alizon, "for I then thought her my mother."

Mistress Nutter fell upon her daughter's neck, and wept aloud.

"You have an excellent heart, my child," she said, at length, checking her emotion.

"I have nothing to complain of in Elizabeth Device, dear mother," she replied. "What she denied herself, she did not refuse me; and though I have necessarily many and great deficiencies, you will find in me, I trust, no evil principles. And, oh! shall we not strive to rescue that poor benighted creature from the pit? We may yet save her.” "It is too late," replied Mrs. Nutter, in a sombre tone. "It cannot be too late," said Alizon, confidently. beyond redemption. But even if she should prove intractable, poor little Jennet may be preserved. She is yet a child, with some good-though, alas! much evil, also, in her nature. Let our united efforts be exerted in this good work, and we must succeed. The weeds extirpated, the flowers will spring up freely, and bloom in beauty."

"She cannot be

"I can have nothing to do with her," said Mistress Nutter, in a freezing tone; nor must you."

"Oh! say not so, mother," cried Alizon. "You rob me of half the happiness I feel in being restored to you. When I was Jennet's sister, I devoted myself to the task of reclaiming her. I hoped to be her guardian angel-to step between her and the assaults of evil-and I cannot,

will not, now abandon her. If no longer my sister, she is still dear to me. And recollect that I owe a deep debt of gratitude to her mothera debt I can never pay."

"How so?" cried Mistress Nutter. "You owe her nothing-but the contrary."

"I owe her a life," said Alizon. "Was not her infant's blood poured out for mine! And shall I not save the child left her, if I can ?"

"I shall not oppose your inclinations," replied Mistress Nutter, with reluctant assent; "but Elizabeth, I suspect, will thank you little for your interference."

"Not now, perhaps," returned Alizon; "but a time will come when she will do so."

While this conversation took place, it had been rapidly growing dark, and the gloom, at length increased so much, that the speakers could scarcely see each other's faces. The sudden and portentous darkness was accounted for by a vivid flash of lightning, followed by a low growl of thunder, rumbling over Whalley Nab. The mother and daughter drew close together, and Mistress Nutter passed her arm round Alizon's neck.

The storm came quickly on, with forked and dangerous lightning, and loud claps of thunder threatening mischief. Presently, all its fury seemed collected over the abbey. The red flashes hissed, and the peals of thunder rolled over head. But other terrors were added to Alizon's natural dread of the elemental warfare. Again she fancied the two monkish figures, which had before excited her alarm, moved, and even shook their arms menacingly at her. At first she attributed this wild idea to her overwrought imagination, and strove to convince herself of its fallacy by keeping her eyes steadily fixed upon them. But each succeeding flash only served to confirm her superstitious apprehensions.

the

Another circumstance contributed to heighten her alarm. Scared most probably by the storm, a large white owl fluttered down the chimney, and after wheeling twice or thrice round the chamber, settled upon bed, hooting, puffing, ruffling its feathers, and glaring at her with eyes that glowed like fiery coals.

Mistress Nutter seemed little moved by the storm, though she kept a profound silence, but when Alizon gazed in her face she was frightened by its expression, which reminded her of the terrible aspect she had worn at the interview with Mother Chattox.

All at once Mistress Nutter arose, and, rapid as the lightning playing around her and revealing her movements, made several passes, with extended hands, over her daughter; and on this the latter instantly fell back, as if fainting, though still retaining her consciousness, and, what was stranger still, though her eyes were closed, her power of sight remained.

In this condition she fancied invisible forms were moving about her. Strange sounds seemed to salute her ears, like the gibbering of ghosts, and she thought she felt the flapping of unseen wings around her.

All at once her attention was drawn-she knew not why-towards the closet, and from out it she fancied she saw issue the tall dark figure of a man. She was sure she saw him, for her imagination could not body forth features charged with such a fiendish expression, or eyes of such unearthly

lustre. He was clothed in black, but the fashion of his raiments was unlike aught she had ever seen. His stature was gigantic, and a pale phosphoric light enshrouded him. As he advanced forked lightnings shot into the room, and the thunder split overhead. The owl hooted fearfully, quitted its perch, and flew off by the way it had entered the chamber. The Dark Shape came on. It stood beside Mistress Nutter, and she prostrated herself before it. The gestures of the figure were angry and imperious-those of Mistress Nutter supplicating. Their converse was drowned by the rattling of the storm. At last the figure pointed to Alizon, and the word "Midnight" broke in tones louder than the thunder from its lips. All consciousness then forsook her.

How long she continued in this state she knew not, but the touch of a finger applied to her brow seemed to recal her suddenly to animation. She heaved a deep sigh, and looked around. A wondrous change had occurred. The storm had passed off, and the moon was shining brightly over the top of the cypress tree, flooding the chamber with its gentle radiance, while her mother was bending over her with looks of tenderest affection.

"You are better now, sweet child," said Mistress Nutter. overcome by the storm. It was sudden and terrible."

"You were

"Terrible indeed!" replied Alizon, imperfectly recalling what had passed. "But it was not alone the storm that frightened me. This chamber has been invaded by evil beings. Methought I beheld a dark figure come from out yon closet, and stand before

you?"

"You have been thrown into a state of stupor by the influence of the electric fluid," replied Mistress Nutter, "and while in that condition visions have passed through your brain. That is all, my child." "Oh! I hope so," said Alizon.

"Such ecstasies are of frequent occurrence," replied Mistress Nutter. "But since you are quite recovered, we will descend to Lady Assheton, who may wonder at our absence. You will share this room with me tonight, my child, for as I have already said, you cannot return to Elizabeth Device. I will make all needful explanations to Lady Assheton, and will see Elizabeth in the morning-perhaps, to-night. Re-assure yourself, sweet child. There is nothing to fear."

"I trust not, mother," replied Alizon. "But it would ease my mind

to look into that closet."

"Do so, then, by all means," replied Mistress Nutter, with a forced smile.

Alizon peeped timorously into the little room, which was lighted up by the moon's rays. There was a faded white habit like the robe of a Cistercian monk hanging in one corner, and beneath it an old chest. Alizon would fain have opened the chest, but Mistress Nutter called out to her impatiently," You will discover nothing, I am sure. Come, let us go down stairs."

And they quitted the room together.

291

MY STRANGE ACQUAINTANCE OF THE DEVIL'S BRIDGE.

BEING THE NINTH CHAPTER OF "INCIDENTS OF THE ROAD; OR,
PASSAGES FROM THE LIFE OF A COMMERCIAL TRAVELLER."

BY JOSEPH ANTHONY, JUN.

Now the distemper'd mind

Has lost that concord of harmonious powers
Which forms the soul of happiness; and all
Is off the poise within: the passions all

Have burst their bounds; and reason, half extinct
Or impotent, or else approving, sees

The foul disorder. Senseless and deform'd,
Convulsive anger storms at large; or, pale
And silent, settles into fell revenge.

THOMSON.

HE who is much of a traveller, whether he be given to observe or not, can scarcely fail to be struck with the great contrast of manners, as well as the wonderful variety presented in the countenances of the different members of the genus homo with whom he comes in contact-the taciturn and talkative, the civil and the surly, the merry and the morose. Extremes in all things are, indeed, undesirable. Who has not suffered the infliction of being bored by a determined talker, whom the responses of monosyllables alone would not stop in his prosings on the, perhaps, not more important and interesting subject than that of cooking a cauliflower or planting a cabbage? Who, on the other hand, has not been foiled in attempting to draw on a conversation with the view of whiling away the tediousness of a long coach journey, by the gruff, half-muttered reply of some sleepy insider, or by one who, squeezing himself up into the opposite corner, would at intervals direct his cold grey eye at you from under the huge brim of his beaver, as though he regarded your overture to chat with suspicion? in all probability debating within himself whether you were a gentleman out of luck, or one of the aristocracy of the light-fingered tribe, who pass through those colleges of Art wherein is taught the arcanum of lightening pockets-a science in itself.

Travelling, even to a proverb, brings a man curious companions, throwing utter strangers together, from which often springs the closest intimacies I say brings, but more correctly should have written did bring-for, amongst its many innovations, steam has all but done away with long journeys and journeying acquaintances. He who travels the longest line by rail need scarcely trouble himself to invite conversation with his neighbour, for he is either too much engrossed in consulting his dial, and comparing the speed at which he is progressing with that of the Chowbent and Bullock Smithy, or some other line, or continually popping his frontispiece out of the window as he nears his destined station, in all probability grumbling that they are no less than a minute and a half behind their time.

Nay, should he with you be going the whole length, against you have ascertained that important fact, and as a preliminary to further edifying conclusions, have both agreed that yesterday was finer than to-day; that the wind blew chilly, very chilly, the day before; and that the late rain

has done much good; screech! goes the steam, like a devil escaping from bondage, the doors fly open in a somewhat similar style to those of the rock to Haji Baba, your luggage comes flying from the top of the carriage before you have yourself well alighted-when, turning to bid goodby to your late companion, you find he has vanished like a harlequin, and, following the general example, you rush about for omnibus or cab as though escaping from the plague, or about to catch some vessel about to start on a voyage from this sublunary sphere to regions of eternal bliss. Hurry, hurry and dash, from the commencement to the end of the journey, wherein the loss of a minute is regarded almost as heinous as pocketpicking, whilst to one-half of the journeyers it is only changing places from forming a part in the dull routine and uneventful commonalties of every-day life, in which not minutes, but days and years are wasted, as though old Time had emigrated from the earth, and King Death, wearied of conquest and slaughter, would slay no more.

Yea, verily, the old system has passed away, and we chat with our fellow-passengers as of old no more; and yet, although we fly on the wings of steam, who will assert that monotonous is the flight? Let such an one, at the same time, confess that he has neither imagination in his brain, nor music in his soul, else, how can he look on the grassy embankment by which he skims along, and behold not a myriad glossy cords fleeting past, in which the buttercup, the daisy, and the green blade, uniting their beauteous hues, are vibrating in dazzling lustre, appearing like the strings of some mighty instrument-or yet not conceive a melody in the voice of the machinery of the monster which speeds him along, and readily adopt its mellifluous notes to Com' E Gentil, or Fake Away?

We are all united in the opinion that steam is indeed mighty steam, and a great feature in the march of improvement; yet there are many who, with me, will often with regret recal the dashing four-in-haud, the roadside house, the guard's "All right," the coachman's "Let them go," and the country-the landscapes-the moving panoramas by which we took our devious way. Farewell to thee, honest jarvey, and the team, the pride of thy heart; no more shall we hear the pedigree of the black wheeler, or the eventful history of the off bay leader, and the plates he was wont to win.

Coach travelling, I repeat, not unfrequently brought amusing companionship, and sometimes originated lasting friendships; amongst the latter, one that I most highly prized, originated in a conversation resulting from my consulting the wishes of a fellow insider respecting the up or down of the windows, our destination being the same, and our journey together of some four hours' duration on a winter's day.

The acquaintance, however, of one of the strangest beings I ever met, and to whom I am about to introduce the reader, arose not from our journeying together, but, being an incident of travel, I relate it-for singular was the commencement of our acquaintance, and singular the place of our meeting-and that was the Devil's Bridge, in Wales.

Far be it from me to attempt a description of a place so celebrated, and made so well known by the author and the artist, and so wonderful in its grandeur, as to rival ought that ever famed Switzerland can boast. Of it I will venture to say no more than this, that it is one of those places which, once to look upon, is never to forget-a scene whose wild and romantic beauty seems to leave a spell upon the spirit, and when far away haunts one in dreams.