been fortunate to procure Mastorf's address, which he gave me.

as

"Have you had no opportunity," said I,

Then I entreat," said I, "that you will obtain the handkerchief for me;" this he promised to do, and we parted.

traces of deep and violent passion; his dark mustachios gave him a military air, and although his German was both elegant and fluent, yet from his foreign accent it was evident" of going over to the Hofraadinde?" it was not his native tongue. The sight of She requested me to call for this evening, the other surprised me,-yes, surely I had she wishes to consult me regarding some seen that face before: he was younger than family affairs." his companion, and his appearance much more feminine; an eye of fire glared from under a a pair of thick, shaggy eye-brows; and as I continued to examine him, I soon recognized the strange apparition of the previous evening. I now gave my whole attention to the strangers, who appeared to have some secret understanding together, and while apparently engrossed by my paper, I overheard a few sentences which gave me a clue to the purport of their conversation.

"Do you still keep your resolution?" said the Italian.

"The carriage is ordered at five," replied the officer; "I cannot delay a day longer, the earth seems to burn under my feet, and the sooner I am upon my way the better."

"You will reach it on Wednesday," replied his friend, "and will lodge as agreed upon, in Kralowna Unice; she will not expect you, and your arrival will surprise her." They whispered afterwards, but from what I could learn it appeared that their conversation reflated to a beautiful daughter and an old father, from whom something was to be concealed,

"You will know her at the first glance," said the Italian; "but in case you make any mistake. you may as well take another look;" and he gave the officer a box, on the lid of which was the miniature of a lovely female.

“I would have no fears, but all might yet go well," replied his friend, "were she but prudent; but who can have any dependance upon a changeable woman?"

64

Leave that to me," said the Italian, "fulfil your promise; my happiness in your hands; give me only that, and I shall never forsake you; but remember, before you set off to leave out the letter; she does not know, and will not believe: tie a knot upon your handkerchief to remind you of it."

"I shall not forget," replied the officer; but to make certain of it"-he felt in vain for the handkerchief; he reflected a moment -then searched again, and betrayed a considerable anxiety at not finding it. "Yes," said he, "yes, I must have left my handkerchief at home. Come, come with me rather, and I will give you the letter," and they departed.

My curiosity was roused, and I would have followed them, had I not promised to wait for my friend, who soon made his appearance, and to whom I related all I had heard and seen: but he thought I gave more weight to the behavior and conversation of the strangers than the circumstances warranted. He had

Mastorf had just wakened from a short slumber when I entered. I was shocked and grieved at the change which illness had made on his once robust and handsome countenance; he was pale, and so exhausted as to be incapable of the slightest exertion. An inflamation of the lungs had brought him to the brink of the grave, and though all danger was now happily past. yet his physicians thought it would be long ere his health was restored.

I asked him if his uncle had visited him lately, but he was so agitated as to be unable to reply; and his attendant informed me, that not being aware of his relationship to the counsellor, she had told him of the dreadful occurrence.

"My poor fellow," said I, "have you been` so unfortunate as to learn this in your weak state?"

"You may imagine," he replied, "how much it shocked me. I thought it would have killed me. But, tell me, is there any thing of consequence taken ?"

"Nothing," said I, "except a brooch and a gold repeater-the money is untouched." My lot is cast," said he, "I dreaded what would happen; what a malicious artifice?"

Without inquiring the meaning of these words, I consoled him by assuring him, that we would do all in our power to serve him. He looked calmly upon me, and answered the pressure of my hand with silent emotion.

On reaching home, I found a small box, in which was the handkerchief; and a note from my friend informed me that he had sent a servant for it, as if one of his guests had dropped it,-it was found in the drawer where I had put it.

I now formed my plans, and determined to set out the following day, to endeavor to discover the murderer; but circumstances prevented me from carrying out my intentions; and after arranging matters with my friend, on the fourth day set off on my journey. I travelled day and night until I reached Dresden; but as I could get no information regarding the object of my search, and after resting a few hours, I again set off for Prague, where I arrived early the following morning. The first person I inquired for was a Mr. Henneberg, a rich merchant, who, on my return from Italy, received me with great hos

pitality; he had been some years a widower, but was now engaged to the younger sister of his wife, and was just about to celebrate his marriage.

"You could not have come more opportunely," said he, as he shook me by the hand. "You must be my guest this evening, when you will meet my bride, the musical composer, Deedesdorf, whom you admire so much, and another agreeable guest. We shall have a very delightful evening-which your presence will add to-but I wish to give them a surprise; do'nt mention to any one that we are acquainted.

words to thank me. The old gentleman made ample amends for the silence of his daughter, he warmly expressed his acknowledgments for the service I had rendered them, and I was too anxious to improve my acquaintance with my new friends to allow the conversation to drop, and accordingly made good use of the adventure which fortune had thus thrown in my way. I remarked how very attentive the young girl became when she heard I had come from B-. We had not been long engaged in conversation when a gentleman, evidently a man of high rank, and who appeared to be intimate with my new acquaintance, joined us: he took the old gentleman aside, saying he had some private intelligence to give him.

Are there many strangers in B—— ?” said my companion.

"A good many," I replied, "particularly

"Perhaps," she continued, with increasing curiosity, "you have met with one of that country who gives lessons in Italian?"

"Oh! yes," I replied; "we have met frequently at the coffee-house, and had much pleasant conversation together, but I never thought of inquiring his name."

Cæsar Buonaventura," replied my companion: but she suddenly checked herself, and seemed provoked at having committed herself thus far.

I promised to come, and we separated. I made a thousand inquiries regarding the object of my journey, but no one could give any intelligence of the stranger whom I described. I found it necessary to think of other means to trace him out, and meanwhile sauntered along to view the city. There was a consid-Italians." erable crowd on the bridge, which forced me to stop a few minutes before a toy-shop, from which at that moment there issued an elderly gentleman with a young girl leaning on his arm, who was playfully patting his cheek as if thanking him for some present he had given her. She had a little lap-dog in her arms, and as she turned to the shop-people to say she would send for her purchase, I had a full view of her countenance, and immediately recognized the original of the miniature I had seen on the lid of the box, in the coffee-house. Although not decidedly beautiful, yet she possessed that species of fascination which is even more engaging than beauty itself; animated and expressive eyes, and a smile so irresistible, that it found its way to every heart. She was dressed with great taste and elegance, and her air and manner seemed to indicate a cultivated mind. Astonishment for some moments rooted me to the spot, but on recovering myself, I determined to follow them. They crossed the bridge, then bent their way towards the ramparts of the town, where there was a pleasant promenade.When they arrived below the trees, the girl put down her little favorite and seemed to enjoy its gambols. They took several turns up and down, and the more I examined her

"Quite right," said I. "I now recollect having seen a letter in his hand with that address' she blushed deeply-"I think," I continued, "the poor man bears the traces of great unhappiness.'

"Is that so very evident?" she replied, and she was just on the point of adding more, when the return of the old gentleman interrupted her.

Excuse me, sir," said he, as he joined us, "that was my brother-in-law, the president, who followed me here on some particular business connected with his office;" and giving his address and an invitation for the following evening, which I gladly accepted, they departed.

the door to receive me-he led me to the I found my friend Henneberg waiting at drawing-room and presented me to his bride, a lovely young creature. Leidesdorf was already there, and we soon renewed our ac

quaintance.

countenance, the more I was struck with the power and fidelity with which the artist had depicted her. At this moment a young man approached with a greyhound, which ran at the little spaniel, and though but in sport, it hurt the little creature, which yelled with You will meet a very talented and interpain. The young girl looked round and fan-esting young man this evening," said my cied her favorite wounded to death; the host, "who is also from BI think you stranger paid no regard to what was passing, will be happy to make his acquaintance; his but coolly walked on! The opportunity was name is Lionkowsky, he is highly accomplisha favorable one; I ran to the dogs, and seized and draws beautifully.' ing the terrified little creature in my arms, carried it to its mistress, who was so overjoyed at its escape, she could hardly find

So, we shall have some disciples of the muses," said the bride. "Here, Leidesdorf reigns supreme in the kingdom of harmony,

and I have already been indebted to him for many a pretty song."

Bizarre among the New Books.

RACHEL kell.

The long expected guest at length arrived, and with a beating heart I recognised the object of my journey; he was most elegantly dressed, his manners were extremely fascinating, and his behaviour to the ladies was so completely that of the finished gentleman, that they were all loud in his praise, and with one consent declared he was one of the most delightful companions they had ever met with; and I must confess that, under any other circumstances, I too would have joined in their opinions. I remarked how very attentive he became when our host informed him that I had just come from B-, a piece of intelligence, however, which appeared far from grateful. He could not recognise me again, as I never uttered a word when I met him in the coffee-house, and indeed hardly once raised my eyes from the papers which I held in my hands. He entertained us with an animated account of the manners and customs of the different countries he had visited, and he appeared to have travelled through most parts of Europe. With equal fidelity he described the most polished nations and the most savage hordes, and related many interesting scenes which he had witnessed in Italy, France, Hungary, and Poland. He gave us a most spirited account of the burn-making the day rayless. ing of a Polish village, which he had seen in his childhood, the fearful countenances of the incendiaries-the merciless plunderers - the blazing roofs-the shrieks of the spectators, and the screams of the terrified children, were depicted with a vividness which made us shudder; he talked most of those countries which none of us had visited, and it was evident he wished to turn the conversation from

This is the title of a domestic tale lately published by M. W. Dodd, of New York, the reading of which has considerably interested us. It embraces a net-work of tolerably engaging incident, and exceedingly wholesome moral. Sense is well blended with sentiment, and the influence of the union on the heart and mind should be decidedly health-giving. Rachel Kell was born in shame, and grew up in its shadow. She entered the world doubting, desponding, unelastic, and unhopeful. In the language of the author

B

When the tea equipage was removed, the bride, who had a great deal of wit and fancy, opened the piano and said gaily

"Come, here are you, three disciples of the muses, and I propose that each shall give us a specimen of his different talents; let a theme be chosen for the musician, the poet, and the painter, and while you are at work, I shall go and order refreshments. As for you, my love," she added, turning to her husband, "you shall snuff the candles."

"A noble employment really," said Henneberg, with a smile; "but come, what is the theme to be, on which our friends are to exercise their talents?"

"The choice belongs to our friend from B," she replied; "he arrived first, therefore he shall choose."

“Agreed,” said I; "will you, gentlemen, accept of the theme I shall give?"

66

Yes," said all.

(Continued in number thirty-three.)

"Often she might be seen standing for a long time in some lone place at nightfall, vacant and absorbed, and heedless of the dews and shades that were falling on her. She marked gloomy passages, sometimes misanthropic ones, in the books she read; and at midnight hours wrote sombre passages in her album. The interesting pensiveness that, from a child, had come and gone in her face, like flitting clouds playing with the sunbeams on a vernal day, now seemed to be permanently there (or getting so), like the settled gloom that overcasts the sky universally,

:

"Her grandparents did what they could to make her cheerful. They contrived methods to divert her; they reasoned with her they encouraged her; they reminded her of the many pleasant things with which a kind providence had favored her, contrasting her condition with that of others, in many points, and by many degrees, less favored than hers. They sought especially to impress her with the cheerful sentiments of religion. But all these endeavors were at best but very imperfectly relevant to the case, inasmuch as they could not change the manner of society, or do away the fact of the poor girl's ostracism. They were sometimes worse than useless, aggravating the feelings they were intended to relieve."

Rachel had the love of Hannah, her grandparent's housekeeper, who the author describes as a middle-aged woman, “ hale and rather fleshy," a fixture in the family. Hannah espoused Rachel's cause, and in her droll homely style cheered her up under the slights the world was disposed to extend her. She would say :—

"But never mind, Rachel: you are as good as the best of them, and they will find it out some day, the dunces. I do declare, it is nothing in the world but envy. And I don't wonder,' (in an under tone) - 'things suffer by comparison.''

Yet Hannah never spoiled her pet. "She could not bear spoiled children."

difficult to determine. At times he looked her full and intently in the face; and then her eyes, in turn, drooped and were averted. At some of his inquiries, indirectly put, she colored a little with surprise. They struck her as betraying more knowledge of her history than a mere stranger could be supposed to have, and more than he was disposed to avow.

stranger, if he was one, or, if not, what occasion, what business, had he to make them?' She was puzzled with the man and with the manner.

Rachel grows older, yet the shadow still follows her. She meets friends of her own sex. and among them Rebekah Raymond. Most delicate are the attentions she pays to her, who still feels a sense of degradation. Rachel is religiously disposed, but she is unblessed with that perfect communion with the Saviour, which lifts one above the world. She is still subject, at times, to the depress-What could suggest such inquiries to a mere ing feeling of loneliness. Next to homesickness, which is similar to it, there is no more desolate transient feeling known to the human heart than that, - - as some are constituted. She cannot say to herself, as another may, in a vacant hour, when work wearies and books are dull, come, let us go look in upon such or such a young friend. She cannot say to herself, at the coming on of a delightful evening, when many are out enjoying it, I will go and meet those cheerful voices yonder. When the day is dismal, or the night dark, and the rain is beating against her windows, she cannot beguile the time by writing a loving letter to some fond mate. Through many a slowpacing hour she is obliged to pass, as drearily as possible, for want of those reliefs which society alone affords."

"But the mystery was solved by her grandmother coming in, uncalled and unexpectedly.

66

He immediately addressed her, in his blandest manner, hoping she was quite well, and advancing to offer her his hand. I was just leaving my regards for yourself and Mr. Kell,' he said, 'not being willing to have you called from your rest.'

"Mrs. Kell made no response to this salutation, except by a painful look of surprise, which seemed to say, What assurance! She trembled visibly, though slightly, as she remained on her feet, a step within the door at which she had entered.

'You do not recognize me, madam-do not remember me, I presume,' said the stranger, in the same unabashed, bland tone and manner.

"Oh, yes,' replied Mrs. Kell, with a sigh. I do remember you,-quite too well, Mr. Wentworth, and always shall. I cannot hope to be so happy as to forget you-ever— in this world.'

An incident soon occurs which gives her a living and breathing sense of her unhappy position. It is thus presented by the author: "A stranger called at the house, and asked if Mr. Kell was in, or Mrs. Kell. Mr. Kell was not at home, but Mrs. Kell was in; and the stranger was shown into the parlor, where he was received by Rachel. He appeared to be about forty years of age, was well dressed, with a bland insinuating voice and manner. "A shriek, and a fall upon the floor, called He might have been called a fine-looking her attention to her grand daughter. Wentman, decidedly, but for a certain equivocal-worth!' That name, and her grandmother's almost sinister-expression in his countenance, awakening slight distrust. His dark, unsteady eyes looked up obliquely through their lashes at you, and then were averted to the floor. This, with some might have passed for diffidence, or modesty, but to a better discerner would have been the index of an evil conscience. Rachel herself felt at once that sinister look, and was chilled by it. Still his appearance was that of a gentleman.

"He did not give his name.

"Mrs. Kell had lain down. Rachel proposed to call her but the stranger desired her, very emphatically, not to disturb her rest, saying he would call at another time. His hat was in his hand, and he rose immediately, as if to go; but still lingered, detaining Rachel with various indifferent inquiries and remarks, and some that were not indifferent; all the while surveying her, in his oblique, but scrutinizing way, from head to foot, much to her annoyance.—with an interest deeper, evidently, than ordinary curiosity; less simple than complacency, too heartless for affection, but whose real nature it was

manner, had disclosed the secret to Rachel. It was with her father that she had been holding, so unwittingly, this mysterious, strangely annoying interview.

"Hannah rushed in, in an agony of concern; the fainting girl was laid upon a bed, and camphor-spirits and cold water were used for her recovery.

"The unworthy man-worse, our tenderness for Rachel forbids our calling himtaking advantage of this confusion, instantly left the house, no one knowing whither he went, or whence he came.

"This was the first and last of Rachel's acquaintance with him: the first and last, probably, of his setting his eyes on her.

"He had seen his injured offspring for once. He had seen how comely and how interesting she naturally was; how much she might have been a father's love, a father's pride, a father's joy, and he hers; but how shocked she was at that father's presence! Whose curse follows him? Not hers; not ours. Remorse, shame, and voluntary exile, are his punishment. It needs no addition.

リ