did it disturb you? He was seated on his little stool by her side, cutting miniature soldiers from the little branches of a wild rose-tree, and watching every change in his sister's face, when Mrs. Mentreville, Emıly, and Walter entered. Melanie raised her head from the pillow on which she reclined, and extended her hand feebly as Selden approached. "Walter, this is kind," said she; "I feared I should not see you before the engagement, and then we may never meet again." The youth spoke not, but kissed the pale hand which rested in his own. She continued: "I see that you have joined them, that you are going forth to add one more brave heart and arm to our adventurous band. I knew it. Go, Walter, go! and my blessing and the blessing of God go with you. If you conquer, you will find your reward in that peace which you have fought to bestow; if you fall, it will be in the performance of your duty, and you will share the grave of our bravest and best. Oh!" she added, clasping her hands, and her eyes kindling with enthusiasm, "Oh! that the shout of victory might be the last earthly sound wafted to my spirit as it seeks the portal of a brighter world! With the voice of triumph floating around its pathway, how blessed might be its departure!" There was a moment's deep silence; every heart seemed too full for speech, till the soft sweet voice of Melanie again fell, like a bird whisper, upon the ears of the motionless group: "Walter, do not deceive me; is it safe for my dear mother and sister to remain in this village, abandoned as it will be to the soldiery in case of defeat? God only knows how deeply I have longed to breathe my last in this dear home of my infancy, but, for the love of mercy, let not this idle fancy endanger the safety or comfort of those I love dearer than myself." Walter replied that it was deemed necessary to fly, and that her father had gone in search of the easiest means of conveyance for her. She sighed deeply. "My own dear father! - But I shall not need him." Immediately rallying her spirits, while the faint sunlight smile, so peculiar to herself, played over her features, she again extended her hand. "Let me not detain you, Walter, from the performance of those duties which now devolve upon you. Go! When I hear the shouts and tumult of the battle, I will pray for you, if on earth-I will watch over you, if released from its fetters. Oh! do not look so sad! If I saw not the mournful faces of those I love, my soul feels so happy I could almost think it Paradise. When I am gone, remember me as a dream, a moonlight vision which never formed itself into reality till it had fled; as a being whose shadow has flitted over the past, whose life is only in the future. I have only two hopes, two wishes upon earth; one for my country, the other-" She paused, and gazed fondly upon Walter and Emily as they stood beside her. The quick glance of Emily caught her meaning, and, throwing herself upon Melanie's bosom, she looked imploringly in her face. "Fear not, my sweet blossom," whispered Melanie, "I cannot, will not say aught which you could wish unsaid." Then turning to Selden, she said, "Farewell; may God protect and prosper you, my brother!"

The tears rushed to the young man's eyes as he cast one long, mournful look upon the delicate and spiritual features, and kissed the small wan fingers which he again pressed, but mastering his emotion with a strong effort, he turned from the room, and paused a moment in the hall, ere he could collect sufficient courage to leave the spot which contained a being so lovely (as he feared) for ever. As he stood thus, with his hand upon his brow and his eyes bent upon the floor, a slight noise behind him attracted his attention. He turned; it was little Alfred. He had stolen unperceived from the room, and was examining Walter's rifle with looks of earnest and admiring attention, and too much absorbed to be conscious of the owner's presence; he was, in fancy, loading, presenting, firing, and performing all the military evolutions of which he was master; when he at length perceived Walter, he sprang to his side, and raising his bright face, exclaimed in an eager whisper

"Oh! Mr. Selden! Mr. Selden! take me with you to the battle; I will not trouble you; I will load your gun, and I will take my little bow and arrow, and fight as the Indians do; and I will make the British run-do, do-take me!"

"Will you not be afraid, my dear boy?" said Walter, scarcely conscious that he spoke.

A smile of contempt curled the boy's red lip.

"Afraid! what honourable soldier was ever afraid?" and forgetting his caution one moment, he laughed aloud. The spark had been awakened in his little bosom, and it required all the soft dews of feeling and reflection to quench its flame.

"Hush, hush, Alfred!" said Selden; "would you leave your sister, your dear sister, and perhaps never see her more?" The boy looked down; his heart swelled, and his lip trembled; but his desire was still strong. "Your father is gone, and would you leave your mother and sisters defenceless? What will become of them if the British conquer?" Here was a double motive; here were united the two ruling passions, and he clapped his hands in the eagerness of his joy.

"Yes, yes, I will stay and protect them; and mother shall call me her little soldier, and sister Emmy will not be afraid, and no one shall touch dear Melanie." And he stole back contented to the stool by his bedside, to indulge his young fancy, in dreams of war, and victory, and

defence.

Walter departed; and in a short time after the sound of martial music, of the drum and fife, and the trampling of many feet, disturbed the silence of Melanie's chamber. Mrs. Mentreville and Emily cast an anxious glance upon the apparently sleeping sufferer, and softly raised the curtain of the window. It was the band of volunteers marching out to their post. It was mostly composed of the young men of the village, led by an older and more experienced commander. Their hearts were beating high with hope and expectation, and they kept pace with a proud and even step to the lively national air which swelled in loud strains upon the breeze. As they passed the house of Dr. Mentreville, many an eye was turned, and many a glance fixed eagerly upon the beautiful face of Emily, as she leaned from the window; but she knew it not, she saw, she thought of but one. The rest passed before her like a colourless picture, and she beheld the form of Walter Selden, vivid and distinct from the pageantry around him. His eye caught hers, fixed with such an earnest and speaking gaze upon his features! Then first flashed the truth like an electric spark through his mind the idea that that young and guileless maiden might feel in him an interest deeper than that of a sister or a friend. A burning flush rose to his cheeks and brow: he bowed low; a white handkerchief fluttered from the window, and it was again closed. All had passed in an instant, but it was one of those which contained more of existence than many a

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long, long year: in that one look, unseen save by its object, the uncon scious girl had betrayed the secret most dear, most sacred to her heart; the one which she had fancied, had believed, no grief, no mental torture could force her to reveal. She turned from the window, hid her blushing face in her hands, and burst into tears.

"Come hither, Emily," said Melanie, and opened her arms, while the weeping girl threw herself into them and sobbed upon her sister's bosom. Melanie clasped her hands over the silken tresses of the young mourner, and raised her head as in prayer. Oh! that I had a purer pencil than those of earth to paint the forms, the expression, of those two lovely beings! Some hovering angel might have transferred that scene to his immortal tablets, and laid it up among the records of heaven, as one bright spot shining forth from the dark annals of misery and crime. Emily, the type of all earth's loveliest, warm with its noblest passions, all the generous impulses of youth, weeping upon the bosom of a dying sister; and that sister, forgetful of herself, of all beside, praying for the dear one, while her face beamed with all the hallowed love, of the gentle compassion of a purified being, and her dark eyes kindled with a glow reflected only from the heaven they sought. The day rolled on, that long, long dreary day; the village was still in the tumult of preparation; the expresses rode by more furious than ever; the British forces were rapidly approaching the village, but still the father, the husband came not, and fears for his safety mingled with the agony of his helpless family. Mrs. Mentreville was a woman of acutely delicate and sensitive feelings, but they were mastered and controlled by a firm judgment, a strong and independent mind. She had long seen, with that anguish which a mother only can know, the certain but gradual decline of her beloved Melanie.

This child had been her favourite. There was something in the pure and lofty enthusiasm of her character which touched a responsive chord in her own bosom. What others had never seen, or only marked as the idle fancies of a romantic girl, revealed to her the inmost recesses of a nature composed of deep sensibilities, quiet, unobtrusive affections, and lofty aspirations after something higher and holier than earth. She had studied her carefully; she loved her to idolatry, and she only who has nurtured, who has wept over the death-bed of such a child, can understand the bitterness of grief which converted her whole soul into a fountain of agony. She saw how deeply it distressed Melanie to behold her sorrow, and many an hour banished herself from her bedside, that spot most sacred upon earth, that she might drink unperceived from the darkness of her affliction, and in solitude, and silence, struggle to subdue her heart into accordance with the will of her Heavenly Father. Night drew on; the sky, which had been clear, became suddenly overcast; the sunbeams no longer played upon the quivering poplars, or sparkled gladly in the blue depths of the Saranac, and a dark thun. der-gust rolled in black volumes from the west. The wing of the storm, as it slowly unfolded in the heavens, cast a deep leaden shadow on the waves of the Champlain; and the white foam gathered upon the crest of each receding billow, as it rolled with an angry murmur to the shore. The thunder growled faintly in the distance; pale flashes of light burst at intervals from the rent clouds, and large threatening drops fell with their sullen patter on the roof. Every thing hetokened the approach of a fearful, though transient storm; and a fervent prayer for the safety of

her husband burst from the lips of Mrs. Mentreville, as she closed the door of the cottage and returned to the chamber of Melanie. As the tempest strengthened, the lightning streamed in with broad and livid flashes, and the thunder rolled on its tremendous pathway; each crash more loud and terrific than the last. Mrs. Mentreville, seated on Melanie's couch, supported her head upon her bosom, and an expression of deep awe rested upon her pale features. Emily knelt by the bedside and concealed her face in its drapery, and even the stout heart of little Alfred quailed, as peal after peal burst and gleamed above them and around them. He lisped no word of fear, but grasped the hand of Melanie in his own, gazed wistfully upon her placid and spiritual features, as if something whispered within him that no danger could assail, no bolts from the artillery of heaven descend upon a form and soul so hea. venly. No terror, no dread was on the face of Melanie; resting upon her mother's bosom, she gazed on the dark rolling masses of the tem. pest-cloud, and trembled not at the livid flames, or the pealings of the loud-voiced thunder; her soul seemed bursting from her eyes in one long gaze of solemn adoration; her spirit was lifted above the warring elements; it was casting its burden of deep and silent worship at the footstool of the Almighty. The storm for an instant paused: the thunder-peals died away in a low muttering growl, and an awful silence reigned in the heavens and on the earth; the angel of the tempest had retired 'neath the veil of blackness, to gather the scattered thunderbolts in his hand, and to wreathe the winged lightnings on his brow. Again he came upon his wild career-on, on, in more terrific majesty; the dark cloud parted with a fearful chasm, while from its bosom poured a sheet of flame, broad, livid, terrible, and a fierce crash, as of a shattered world, pealed along the heavens. A low shriek burst from the lips of Emily, and Alfred pressed his sister's hand with a convulsive energy. The grasp recalled Melanie's wandering senses; she drew him closer to her bosom, and whispered in accents low but distinct, heard like an angel's murmur amid the roaring of the storm, "Fear not, my little brother; it is the same voice which breathes in melody among the flowers of spring; the same hand which paints the rainbow and the rose. Fear not, it is your Father and your God! He sendeth forth the spirit of his love, and heaven and earth are bathed in the fountain of its glory, he stretcheth out the arm of his power and the hills tremble and are shaken. Yea," she added, clasping her hands and looking upwards with an expression of fervent solemnity, "yea; thou only art great who coverest thyself with light as with a garment; who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain; who makes the clouds thy chariot; who walkest upon the wings of the wind."

It was midnight. The storm had departed as it came; the wind sighed mournfully, yet sweet amid the dripping branches; the black masses rolled from the firmament, and the moon, struggling through their gloom, cast her feeble and trembling beams on the still agitated waters; the waves rose and fell with a faint wailing murmur, like the sobs of a weeping child; and the hearts of the anxious mourners seemed to bcat in unison with their sad cadence. A taper was burning on the hearth in Melanie's chamber, but the curtain was withdrawn, and the pure cold rays of the moon trembled faintly upon a being, pure and heavenly as themselves. She slept in the hush of that midnight hour, surround. ed by those best loved on earth, she slept. Oh! the peace, the unearth

ly beauty of that sleep. Her head lay back upon the pillow, her bright dark hair shaded with its rich tresses the exquisite features of her face; the serenity of heaven seemed resting on her broad, pale brow; her dark eyelids lay motionless on their snowy pillow, and nought could reveal to the beholder that he gazed on an inhabitant of earth, save the brilliant flush which mantled upon her cheek, as if death, fearing utterly to destroy a work so beautiful, had breathed a deeper crimson on the fresh rose of health, and placed it 'mid the lilies of disease. Emily was kneeling, beside her, her face bathed in tears, and her eyes now bent with a wistful sadness upon her sleeping sister, now raised as in prayer to Heaven; a petition seemed trembling upon her lips, but it would wing its way no farther; she dared not pray for fetters to enchain the struggling spirit; she could not even wish to recall the fluttering prisoner to its cage of clay, and the prayer died unuttered on her tongue. Then her mind wandered far away from that shaded room and its midnight stillness. She saw the morning dawn above the opposing ranks; she heard the shouts of the commanders, the sharp report of the rifles, and the deafening roar of the cannon, and she saw one form amid the thousands, and, as when she last beheld it, she saw that form alone; she marked his every movement, and when her quick fancy beheld the "leaden death," flying around him, her breath was checked convulsively, and the colour went and came upon her cheek, and then with the swiftness and waywardness of thought, her mind returned to their last meeting, their last look; and her face became one burning flush when she thought how much, how all too much that look betrayed. As she raised her head from the counterpane in which it had been buried, her eyes again rested upon the features of Melanie, and still more deeply did she blush at her own selfishness in thinking of aught beside the cherished sufferer and the duty she owed to her beloved mother. Where was that mother now? Why was not she too bending over the slumbers of the dying one? Oh! had you asked her bleeding heart, an answer had been poured forth in tones of the bitterest agony which the hand of sorrow could draw forth from its broken strings. Grief-grief, too deep for utterance, too violent for restraint, had driven her from the bedside of Melanie. With a burning brain and throbbing nerves, she had stolen unnoticed from the side of Emily, and stepped forth upon the broad piazza, to breathe for one moment the coolness of the midnight air; it soothed, it refreshed her, and throwing herself upon the seat beneath Melanie's window, a burst of tears relieved her agitated feelings. The scene was solemn, and to the reflecting mind it was one of deep interest, for the shade of an eventful morrow seemed hanging darkly over it; torches were glancing to and fro in the distant fort; boats were crossing and recrossing the river; the bridges were destroyed, and the voice of the sentinel was heard at intervals, as he loudly demanded the countersign from some belated traveller. In addition to her other cares, Mrs. Mentreville was now seriously alarmed for the safety of her husband: at every casual footstep, at every shadow which obscured the moonlight, she started from her seat, and an anxious" is it he?" trembled unconsciously upon her lips. In the silent solemnity of that midnight hour her mind reverted to her own early days, when loving and beloved, she had first entered that humble cottage, a youthful and happy wife, and when after the lapse of years she had still found herself an adored and cherished mother, the centre of all the social affections, the