THE BLOODY BROW.

A SCOTTISH LEGEND.

'Au, weel, Dougal, ye must e'en gang yer ain gait, lad--ye were aye a strange wayward bairn: I ken'd the time wad come that wad tear fro' me the comfort of my grey hairs-I wad no' tax ye wi' ingratitude,

but'

Ingratitude! oh, mither! I own-I own, I owe a' to ye-friendless, nameless, houseless, as the deserted kid upon the bleak bare mountains, ye sheltered me, ye fostered me, wi' mair than mither's care; ye ca'd me son, I thought mysel yer bairn: ah, happy had I but remained in ignorance, ye had no then had to tax me wi' ingratitude; oh mither, ye hae wrung my heart!'

'Forgi' me, forgi' me, my dear dear bairn, I meant it no, indeed I meant it no; ye hae ever been to me a dutifu', a loving bairn! But will ye leave me, will ye tak fro' yer puir auld Alice the last best hope o' her widowhood? to see thee, to kiss thy bonny cheeks, to ca' thee my ain bairn, to hang on thee for support, as doth the mouldering wall cling to the sheltering ivy? Ye will, ye must, I see it in yer een, I ken it by those tears, that never burst fro' thee, but for sorrows that wad brak a heart o' common mould.'

The old woman, as she ceased, clasped the young Dougal in her withered arms, who returned her caresses with affectionate fervour. Both for a time remained in the silent indulgence of their feelings.

But what, my bairn,' said Alice, at length, has happened, to determine ye to leave me sae sune? The little I hae, ye ken weel, is yer ain. It is no ower muckle, but gin ye be prudent, it wad keep ye aboon the warld. Why then should a discontented spirit possess ye? bide at hame, Dougal, bide at hame; yer neighbour Cameron wad be weel content to see ye at his ingle. The lassie, Jeany Cameron, ye are convinced, lo'es ye; tak her, Dougal, ye wad mak a bonny twa, the pride o' the glen.'

'Mither, mither, dinna name it!' cried the youth.

. Gin ye kent what was gaen on at the castle, ye wad na' ta'k o' the Camerons.'

Ah, laddie!' returned Alice, there's the thorn that rankles on yer breast; but, my dear bairn, consider the folly o' cherishing sae hopeless a passion. The eagle pairs no wi' the heron, nor can the laird's heiress-Fergi' me, Dougal, I see I distress ye.'

No, my kind Alice, there ye canna gie me pain! I am as noble as the proud inmate o' yon castle. My bluid's as pure, aye, an' mair unsullied than the stream that stagnates through his withered veins. Would, would he were younger! would to Heaven his age were no such as to disarm my vengeance.'

What mean ye, Dougal?' cried the old woman, with a look of terror.

'Mither, the tale is long an' dreadfu'; I hae again seen the Bluidy Brow,' replied the youth, with a convulsive shudder.

'Where, where, my bairn; oh, tell me where?' ejaculated Alice, seizing his hand.

• Three nights ago, within the glen; look no wildly on me thus, but hear me,' reiterated Dougal; 'ye ken it was the anniversary o' the night on which my feeble cries, when exposed to the rude tempest, first attracted yer notice. Ye thought me mair than usually gloomy on my return; ye were no mista'en, a strange depres sion had, throughout the day, clouded my spirits; an' a firm conviction that the time was near, that wad be decisive o' my destiny, possessed me. In the evening I wandered through the glen, and cam' to the auld brigg. This was the spot where twice before I had seen the Bluidy Brow. Mither, ye dinna think me a coward, yet I durst no pass the burn, ower which the auld brigg leads; a form appeared anent it, that chilled my bluid; it came near me, I saw it smile an' extend its withered hand; it was the Bluidy Brow! I stood gazing on it in silent horror. Boy, thou art welcome hither," it at length exclaimed. "Seven tedious years had I waited for thee here; twice hast thou seen me on this spot; this third is our last meeting. Before

we part for ever, I hae a tale to tell thee; canst thou hear it now?"

I bent in reply.'

"Thou dost well to reverence me," cried the spectre," I am thy father; thou art arrived at manhood, I come to tell thee where thy birth-right lies; look well upon me, boy, do ye no' ken my features? I am the brither o' the Baron Malcolm, I am the brither o' the viper that stung my life, my fame; I am the brither o' the wretch wha gied thee, my infant, to the roaring torrent. Hear me, boy; I fell beneath a brither's hand; an uncle's ambition exposed thee to the tempest; on this spot wert thou rescued fro' the fate he hoped to bring on thee. Ye ken enough; this blade was buried in yer father's bosom, this blade must be dimmed wi' yer uncle's life-blood, or on this spot, yersel' and sister must perish yer sister; for learn, my puir deluded boy, she whom thou lo'est is thy ain sister, thy father's

child."

I heard no mair; I sank lifeless on the ground, mither, for still must I ca' ye sae; ye hae heard my tale, ye ken my destiny. Can I strike a decripit old man? no, the wretch must live, protected by his age. Mysel and my Emma are devoted. The star that beamed on our twin birth again appears in yon sky, o' a bluidy hue, bluidy as the brow o' our murdered parent. Alice,' he continued, 'ye will sune hae nae bairn, nae supporter, nae friend. The jest, the scorn o' the vulgar, ye will wander a wretched maniac, and tell to the winds yer tale o' woes. Then will Dougal sleep under the green, green wave, or greener turf; bis Emma will share his slumbers; we sall no hear the groans, we sall no see the tears o' puir auld witless

Alice.'

Oh, wae's me! wae's me!' ejaculated the old woman, sinking on her knees, as the frenzied Dougal tore from her arms, and fled the place.

*

*

Hear me Emma! my birth is no longer a mystery; ye hae no lo'ed a carle. I winna now harrow up yer

gentle spirit by my tale o' horrors; ye ken my faith, can ye flee wi' me?'

It was Dougal who thus addressed the lady Emma. She half disengaged the hand which he had held while he spoke; and replied, And can Dougal imagine that, dear as he is to me, I can forget my duty to my father, fly from his protection, and plunge both thee and me into irremediable ruin? No, my Dougal,' added she, go to my father, tell him your birth, tell him your love, and ask my hand; for, believe me, without his consent I cannot be your's.'

Stay, Emma! one moment stay! my tale to the baron wad be a tale o' woe; my name a sound of despair. Emma, Emma, ye are no his bairn; ye are his victim, ye are the daughter o' my father, ye are my sister!'

A loud shriek told the effect of this dreadful recital

upon the lady Emma. She sank insensible into Dougal's arms; who, having gazed wildly on her pale features, placed her despondingly upon the ground, ejaculating, Lie there, puir victim o' a demon's crimes; could but that sleep fold thy powerless form for ever, thou wert happy!'

Scarcely had these hurried accents trembled from the lips of the frenzied youth, when the form of the Baron Malcolm darkened the entrance of the arbour where they were.

Villain!' cried the old man, grasping his sword, 'what hast thou done with my child?'

'Thy child, thou wretch! thy child! look on this blade; whose bluid is corroded on it? the bluid o' the father o' this puir injured innocent; this lovely victim, whom thy cursed arts hae devoted to destruction: and look on me, torrents and tempests destroyed no thy brither's heir!'

Malcolm gazed in speechless horror upon the youth, nor did he recall his scattered senses, till Dougal had grasped the still lifeless Emma in his arms, and hurried forward to the fatal bridge.

The baron, with the speed of despair, pursued the devoted pair, and, with a voice of terror, cried,' Give,

give me my child; save, oh save her, and all shall be thine!'

The maniac youth gazed on the terror-stricken baron, and with a laugh of wild contempt, cried'Dost thou at length feel pity? see, it is too late, she is dead-dead-the tale I told hath killed. Return to the walls thou didst purchase wi' bluid; seek for thy bairn, thou long hast ca'd her sae; search for the heiress o' thy wide domain. Hence, hence, and let us sink in peace; or stay, and see thy last victim escape thy hand.'

As he ceased, he clasped the lifeless form still closer to his breast, and with a wild laugh, plunged with her from the bridge into the foaming torrent beneath.

'God of justice! thy vengeance hath reached me!' shrieked the baron, as he grasped the fatal weapon that had fallen from Dougal's hand; he fell upon the point, and with a deep and lingering groan, the spirit of the fratricide fled to the realms of retribution.

SERENADE.

CHARLES M.

(FROM THE SPANISH OF DON MANUEL ESPARAÇA Y VILLOUDES.)

FAIREST! Come down from thy lattice,
And fly with me over the sea,

:

The moon from the Heavens shines brightly :-
Fairest, come down to me!

Beloved! as that moon thou'rt the essence
Of beauty--though fair they may be,
Other maids are but stars in thy presence :-
Loved one, come down to me!

Dearest! oh, trust thy true lover,
And hasten down with him to flee,
Believe not he'll e'er prove a rover :-
Dearest, come down to me!

Then while the moon shines on the fountains,
On bower, rock, castle, and tree,

Ere the sun gilds the easterly mountains-
Fairest, come down to me!

F. G. FITZOSBORNE.