It had probably been originally a projection from the building; and the small fissure, which communicated with the dungeon, contrived for air, had terminated within it. But the aperture had been a little enlarged by decay, and admitted a dim ray of light to its recesses, although it could not be observed by those who visited the place with torches.

'Here is dead silence,' said Catharine, after she had listened attentively for a moment. Heaven and earth, he is gone!'

We must risk something,' said her companion, and ran her fingers over the strings of her guitar.

A sigh was the only answer from the depth of the dungeon. Catharine then ventured to speak. 'I am here, my lord-I am here, with food and drink.'

Ha! Ramorny? The jest comes too late-I am dying,' was the answer.

His brain is turned, and no wonder,' thought Catharine; but whilst there is life, there may be hope.' 'It is I, my lord, Catharine Glover-I have food, if I could pass it safely to you.'

Heaven bless thee! I thought the pain was over; but it glows again within me at the name of food.'

The food is here, but how, ah! how, can I pass it to you? the chink is so narrow, the wall is so thick. Yet there is a remedy-I have it. Quick, Louise; cut me a willow bough, the tallest you can find.'

The glee-maiden obeyed, and by means of a cleft in the top of the wand, Catharine transmitted several morsels of the soft cakes, soaked in broth, which served at once for food and for drink.

The unfortunate young man ate little, and with difficulty, but prayed for a thousand blessings on the head of his comforter. I had destined thee to be the slave of my vices,' he said, and yet thou triest to become the preserver of my life! But away, and save thy

self.'

I will return with food as I shall see opportunity,' said Catharine, just as the glee-maiden plucked her sleeve, and desired her to be silent, and stand close.

Both couched among the ruins, and they heard the voices of Ramorny and the physicianer in close conversation.

:

Catharine and her companion concerted a plan for the delivery of the prince; but aid arrived too late the Duke of Rothsay died of hunger.

THE SAILOR'S FUNERAL.
THE wind no threat'ning utter'd,
It ruffled not a wave,

While the British standard flutter'd
O'er the sailor's destined grave.
For the hand of death had taken
The bravest of the crew,
Whose heart was never shaken,
When the foe-ship came in view.
The with'ring spell had bound him,
In death's cold arms he slept;
While his messmates stood around him,
And each in silence wept.

But, hark! the priest has spoken :-
'We give unto the deep

Our brother's corpse, till broken
Shall be the last, long sleep.'
His weeping messmates bore him,
To his deep and watery bed,
A shot was fired o'er him,

While the sea received its dead.

To the monsters of the ocean

Was his corpse, a banquet, spread; Till the last-the great commotion, When the sea shall yield its dead. Halifax, Dec. 1829.

GULIELMUS.

EPIGRAM ON A SHOWER. OF RAIN.
'HEAVEN'S water-pipes are sure turned on,
To make such pouring rain!'

'True, friend, for every one allows
It does come down a-main!"

F. G. FE.

THE MIDNIGHT CRY.

'This is the hour when spirits walk abroad.'

EVERY one believes in ghosts-no one will confess it. Sir Walter Scott, I am happy to find, is above this weakness, and I was once present at an occurrence which might well banish scepticism.

I hate all disguise, and shall, therefore, mention time and place to the south-west of the picturesque town of Enniscorthy, which lies, as every body knows, on the Slaney, is situated the district called the Duffry. Within its precincts stands the wood of Killoughram, and its dense shade, which has often proved the outlaw's asylum, casts a solemn gloom upon the scenery around. The high mountains to the north add to the sober aspect of the place, and the long and dreary level which lies at the base of the hills does not tend to diminish the melancholy impressions which seize upon the visitor to the Duffry. Business, in 1814, conducted me to this retired parish: I was returning from New Ross, and my horse having picked up a nail, I wished to be relieved from the necessity of proceeding that night to Enniscorthy.

It was winter, and the elements looked as if they were angry with all nature; they were, apparently, uncomfortable, and a gathering storm facilitated the approach of evening. Being an entire stranger in this part of the country I knew not whether an inn were convenient, and anxiously wished to meet with some one who might direct me. But desolation reigned around: a heath was on my right, and a bog on my left; and neither human being nor human habitation was to be seen within the wide expanse of country which my eye embraced.

Throwing the bridle over my arm I walked on, and the limping animal hobbled after me; in about half-anhour I heard the distant sound of a horseman. Never did I hear any thing that gave me more delight, and I waited, with an anxiety which communicated a sensation of pain, for those well-known indications which as

sured me that the traveller was approaching. I had no apprehension of robbery, for the crime is unknown in this part of Ireland, and I stood by the side of the road in instant expectation of the stranger, but he was still farther off than I imagined; for the stillness of evening had enabled me to hear the sound of his horse's foot at a considerable distance.

The sun had already sunk below the horizon, leaving behind it that sickly streak of red which precedes a storm; and as I kept gazing at it, two persons, apparently a man and woman, came towards me. They were engaged in a most vivacious conversation, and wore the dress of the Wexford peasantry. They talked loudly and laughed immoderately, but I could not catch a single word of what they were saying. When they came near me I gave them the usual Irish salutation, God save you!" but the word had not passed my lips when they vanished from before me. Their conversation was still audible, and their laugh sounded as if they were receding from me across the bog, but their persons were invisible. I strained my eyes, but in vain'; the sound of their voices became fainter, and soon died away in the distance.

A tumult of fears assailed me: I am neither superstitious nor nervous, yet I confess my strength and resolution, at that moment, forsook me, and I involuntarily, but not without difficulty, mounted my horse. He is a poltroon,' said Buonaparte, who boasts of his having never felt fear,' and they only reproach others with cowardice who are ignorant of those physical causes on which courage depends. The hero of the battle-field will tremble on the side of the bath ; and the soldier, who has encountered death under a hundred forms, will hesitate to tempt the beings that are supposed to people an invisible world.

I had no sooner been safely seated in my saddle than I urged on the lamed animal with all my might. He could not, however, notwithstanding the application of whip and spur, travel fast, and, fortunately, I had not proceeded far when a horseman overtook me. He was

well mounted, gave me the salve domine,' and proved to be the priest of the parish. His name was Furlong, and he still discharged the spiritual duties of the parish. For forms of faith let graceless zealots fight.' I always reverence the ministers of religion, be their creed what it may; and I must do Mr. Furlong the justice to observe that I owe much to his kindness, and never met a gentleman of more unaffected urbanity or gentlemanly demeanour. The defects popularly attributed to his order are not to be found in him; and I have no doubt that his piety is sincere, and his usefulness considerable.

The good priest heard my tale of sorrow, and undertook to relieve me. There was no inn near, but the hospitality of his home was kindly proffered to me. I accepted it, and found at his lodgings, for he resided with a widow, a welcome reception. His landlady had recently lost a sister, and was in tears for her, but she exerted herself, nevertheless, to make us comfortable. A roast duck was a very acceptable supper, and some excellent whiskey punch was recommended as very beneficial to digestion. We chatted over our tumblers to a late hour. I related the scene I had witnessed, and Mr. Furlong laboured to account for it in a natural way. He did not convince me, and we separated for the night.

I had hardly taken off my coat when my ears were assailed by the same indistinct conversation and loud laughter which I had heard on the road. The sounds came from outside my window, but before I could unbolt my door they changed into a dismal cry, so piteous and so supernatural that it froze the blood in my veins. I burst into the parlour, and there encountered the whole of the farm servants: they had all heard it, and were hurrying for safety to the priest. I followed them: Mr. Furlong was on his knees; he arose as we entered, and desired us to be silent.

The cry continued; but the tone increased in frightful vehemence, and, with the rapidity of lightning, appeared to run round the house immediately under the