of appearing as much my mistress as my bride. The engravers, in order to reward me, as they said, for the ability with which I had acted my part, permitted me to prolong the enchantment for a fortnight. Excess of love for awhile banished from my mind, the fatal catastrophe which was fast approaching. At length, after various conferences with these most implacable enemies of Beatrice, it was decreed that we should set out on our journey, to my native place,

In proposing to my wife an excursion of which I foresaw all the cruel consequences, I could not prevent a deep sigh from escaping me, to which the credulous and confiding Beatrice paid no attention. Her lively imagination was elated with the idea of travelling by my side in a magnificent equipage; attended by her women, escorted by servants on horseback, and of finding means of indulging at once her pride, and her love. She was delighted in making preparations for a journey, the approach of which to my young wife, in her eighteenth year, was the very height of pleasure—but, which to me, was the very depth of despair. More than once I implored my patrons to have mercy upon me; they laid before me all the obligations that I had entered into; we began our journey-two of my ten friends serving me as couriers, while he who had paid his addresses to Beatrice, pushed his imprudence so far as to offer himself to me as a coachman. It is true that a wig dexterously stuck on his head, and a plaister fixed on his right eye, so disguised him, that even his friends failed to recognize him; three others of the young engravers gaily rode behind the carriage. The other four detained at Lyons by their affairs, consoled themselves in not being of the party, by making the travellers promise to write to them from every place, where we should stop to rest ourselves; and this we did frequently, for we were travelling only by short stages. Scarcely could these wicked domestics contain their mirth, when they heard my vain bride, who always spoke to them with a haughty distance, addressing herself to me in terms, the most respectful, inquiring the names of my châteaux, the extent of my estates, and of my rights of hunting and fishing; dwelling with pleasure on my mines, which to her lively imagination, were equal to those of Peru. On subjects such as these turned our conversation, when three leagues beyond Montelimart, we perceived the narrow lane which led to a village, the church steeple of which appeared distant from the high road. This poor village, alas! was

mine. The critical moment was close at hand!

We passed over lands that certainly were not mine, and after three hours long and difficult travelling, our coachman too well instructed, stopped the carriage at the door of a miserable hut. An old man, clad in the homely garb of poverty, was on the threshold, taking the air. In this old man, I

discovered my venerable father. No, no, I have no colours with which I can trace this original scene! Figure to yourself the trembling "Pirourou" on one side, the haughty Beatrice on the other, and six insolent young men with much ceremony, placing her on an old broken chair, with most insulting bursts of laughter, and with pleasantries the most aggravating, refining upon their vengeance, and her mortification. Figure to yourself the pretended coachman, taking off suddenly his plaister and his wig, and addressing Beatrice with an air of superiority, in the following words, "No, Madam, no, you have not been born, or brought up to be the wife of an engraver," and then adding in a tone of inconceivable disdain-" such a lot would have done too much honour to your birth, to your fortune, and to your choice. A BELLOWS-MENDER is worthy of you; and such is he, madam, whom you have

taken for your husband." I was about to answer, but the pretended coachman was already on his seat, the five others threw themselves into the coach, almost choaked with laughter, their countenances beaming with satisfaction, and the equipage was soon lost to sight.

I expected the catastrophe would indeed be serious, I expected too, it would be brought about in a singular manner, yet, I hoped by some unforeseen incident or other, that it might be less terrible than it proved. My companions whilst they taught me my part, had kept their own a profound secret. They carried off every thing with them, like the scene shifters of a theatre, who lock up the decorations after the piece is finished. As for the unfortunate Beatrice, she saw not the end of the last act, her former lover continued speaking to her, when she no longer heard him. These ruffians, I cannot choose any other term by which to designate them, left her in a swoon, pale, cold, and apparently lifeless, save when now and then a convulsive sob, would escape in a sudden, and involuntary manner from her prostrate form. Judge of my situation! Recollect that I had now acquired a considerable amount of sensibility, and delicacy, from the instructions I had received, and the mode of life to which I had lately been accustomed. Alas! in those cruel moments, I trembled at the thought of losing the woman I now adored; and also at the thought of seeing her again restored to her senses; I could not have told at this juncture, which event I desired most: however, I lavished upon her the tenderest cares, as from impulse and necessity, half wishing my cares might be unavailing. How this dreadful shock to her system would terminate, was for some time in doubt. At length, after bathing the palid features of the delicate Beatrice, and using some restoratives, she seemed for a moment to regain her senses. Her phrensied eye met mine— "Monster!" she exclaimed, and her senses again forsook her. I took advantage of this second swoon, to remove her from the sight of the spectators, composed chiefly of women with withered countenances, who might have passed for witches; and laid my plaintive bride, on the old flock bed in my father's hut. When she had again somewhat recovered, I commanded every one to leave us, in order to have no witness of the explanation, and of the dreadful story, it was now my duty to relate to my disappointed wife.

When I had got rid of the embarrassment of the crowd, I took my sincerely beloved, and sincerely pitied Beatrice in my arms-my tears bathed her cheeks. At length she opened her eyes and fixed them on me-mine shrunk from her glance. The first use which she made of speech, was to request me, under pretence of taking repose, which we both wanted, to defer till the following day, the hateful detail of the abominable plot, of which she had been the victim. I yielded to her request and withdrew, leaving her in the care of a very kind young lady of the village, who had been attracted to the scene, by a natural desire to render aid if required, and whose kind offices my poor Beatrice seemed to receive with great thankfulness.

How shall I describe the horrible night which I passed? Fallen at once from a situation the most splendid, in a miserable village, which afforded no kind of resource, and with but very little money in my possession, whilst my adored wife, in the morning of womanhood, accustomed to contribute to, as well as to share the pleasures of society, had been led by a despicable conspiracy, to the cottage of an old man, respectable indeed, but in a wretched state of poverty. I now felt overwhelmed with regret; what bitter reproaches did I heap upon myself for my want of manliness at the first onset! I had been the chief instrument of her torture, the chief cause of her disgrace, the

accomplice of an unheard of atrocity, against one who never would have done me any harm! What would become of her? In what manner could I now act, which would least wound her feelings? Would she think herself sufficiently rich in my attachment and tenderness? Oh no! I felt all the horrors of her future destiny, and my own-Yes of my own!-I had indeed, no great reverse of fortune to undergo; I was born to follow an ignoble calling, I had been nurtured in want, I could experience little change for the worse, as it regarded my circumstances and position in life, but my agonized heart, a heart too susceptible of feelings, to which I might have been a stranger, now told me in the plainest language, that I had a sad sorrow to sustain, perhaps the most cruel one in the catalogue of human evils. I had not merely to bear indifference from that object on whom I had placed every hope of happiness, to see that heart alienated, whose tenderness was necessary to my existence, to read coldness in that eye on whose look my peace depended, I recollected with distraction, that it must be my doom not merely to support indifference, but aversion-I was not only to become an object of contempt, but of horror, I was not only to feel the bitterness of being hateful to her I loved, but to know that I deserved her hatred-to find that the sharpest of all my sorrows was the poignancy of remorse. Had not I been the fatal cause of all she suffered? Had not I darkened all the fair prospects of her life, and overwhelmed her with intolerable anguish? Had not I, wretch that I was, planted a dagger in her heart? Perhaps she would find a refuge from me in the grave, perhaps her last breath would curse me, or, if she pitied and forgave me, could I endure her cruel mercy? Would not her pity and forgiveness be more barbarous than reproach, more terrible than her curse?

Such were the reflections which absorbed my mind, whilst tossing about on that wretched bed, whereon I had thrown my miserable body to pass that night. The horror of my situation was increased by a continuance of violent rains, which laid under water the cross road leading to Montelimart, and which rendered it quite impassible for some days. This circumstance prevented me from sending to the town (as on the following morning I intended to do), for a carriage to convey Beatrice to a lodging, not so calculated to mortify her pride.

You will easily imagine that I sent continually to enquire respecting the situation of my unfortunate bride. The answers were in a measure satisfactory; I did not intrude my presence upon her, but my attentions were received with gratitude; I was repeatedly told that the next day I should be admitted to see her; that she had made up her mind; that she would display firmness of character, which in the cruel circumstances in which she was placed, would astonish and confound her vile enemies. All these things, which were repeated to me with an affectation of secrecy, did not lull me into perfect security. That terrible to-morrow affrighted me: I dreaded the fatal interview more than I should, had I been about to receive sentence of death! I even meditated as to how I might be able to elude it. I was inwardly praying that by some means, I might be able to escape it, when the door of my chamber opened, and discovered to me my bride. I threw myself at her feet, and seizing one of her hands, kissed it, and bathed it with my tears. She looked at me in this humiliating posture for some little time in silence, then bidding me to rise up, she addressed me with all the dignity of pride which nothing could vanquish. "You have deceived me," said she, "it is on your future conduct that my forgiveness shall depend. If any generous sentiment remains at the bottom of your heart, if you are desirous of not

making me entirely and altogether miserable, do not take advantage of the authority which you have usurped; the young lady who has befriended me, offers me a retirement at her uncle's house in this village, for some time; I have accepted it, with much thankfulness. You may visit me there, whenever you please, and we will concert together the means of extricating ourselves from this sad position, and of providing for our future support-rely upon my honour for the care of defending your own."

Man is a confiding being! A kind word from the woman we love, is sufficient to soften down all the misery she occasions. Notwithstanding the cold disdain of Beatrice, I gave her credit for her meekness, without reflecting that it would have been more natural for her to have loaded me with reproaches and abuse. During five days my confidence that Beatrice would forgive me gradually increased, and while I traced out to her the plan of life which love suggested to me, I saw her more than once smile as the picture. Could I imagine that after so many sufferings, the cruel Beatrice had one more in reserve for me, which would far surpass all I had hitherto endured? To be continued.

THE STORY OF THE ALABAMA.

Who that has ever been on salt water, has not heard of the story of the Flying Dutchman? It will be the same henceforth of the Alabama. Her career was cut short before she had been two years afloat, yet she met with extraordinary success in accomplishing the end for which she was constructed. The damage inflicted by her on the mercantile marine of the Northern States of America, is well-nigh incalculable; and her hairbreadth escapes from capture by the Federal navy, have been many and wonderful. Her career has been one of the most extraordinary, that has ever been narrated of any ship. The officers of this adventurous cruiser were all young men, full of life and energy; and the same may be said of the crew, who had in them a dash of the daring spirit of the pirates and corsairs of old. They were a turbulent set at the best, and nothing but their admiration for the brilliant professional qualities of their officers, and the strong and determined character of the authority, to which they were subjected, kept them in anything like good order.

It will be fresh in the recollection of many of our readers that the Alabama was originally known as "No. 290," and was built by the Messrs Laird (of ram notoriety), Birkenhead. She was a barque-rigged wooden vessel, of 1040 tons, length of keel 210ft, length over all 220ft., beam 32ft., and depth 17ft. She was a screw propeller, and her engines were of the horizontal species and of 300-horse-power each. She had a stowage for 350 tons of coal, and her sails were fore, foretopmast stay sail and jib, two large try sails, the usual square sails on fore and main with the exception of the main sail, which was flying, spanker, and gaff-top sails-all standing rigging of wire. Her appropriate motto which was engraved on her wheel just before her mizen-mast was-" Aide-toi et Dieu t'aidera " (Help yourself and God will help you). She carried a cutter, launch, gig, whale boat, and dingy. Her main deck was pierced for twelve guns; her stern elliptical, billet head, high bulwarks, and excellent accommodation for captain, officers, petty officers, and Her full complement of men was 120, and her shell-rooms, magazines, store-rooms, &c., were in keeping with the excellent general arrangements of

crew.

the vessel. By the 29th of July, 1862, the Alabama was in a sufficiently forward state to put to sea, and on that day she steamed down the Mersey, ostensibly on her trial trip, and having on board a large number of ladies and gentlemen, as a blind to her real intentions-a ruse very necessary at the time, as the representatives of the Federal government were narrowly watching her movements, and had even denounced her to the Home Secretary. Her trial-trip was destined to be a long one, and to revisit Liverpool was not included in the programme. In the afternoon the company were transferred to a steam tug, wishing the Confederate cruiser "God speed" on her perilous career. As soon as the real character of the trial trip became known in Birkenhead and Liverpool, the utmost consternation prevailed amongst the Federal functionaries and the officials of the Customs. The latter, indeed, seem to have been on the point of seizing the "290 " at the moment of her departure, but somehow she just escaped their clutches. The former personages at once telegraphed to the federal steamer Tuscarora, then cruising off the southwestern shores of our island; but although "290" was still for some time about the Irish Sea, she was lucky enough not to meet with her pursuer. Had she done so her career would certainly have terminated there and then, as she was still destitute of armament, and much remained to be done towards her actual completion as a sea-worthy vessel. "No. 290"-for as yet she bore no other name, being in that Pagan condition known as "unchristened made her way to the Atlantic through the North Channel, and steered for the Azores, her average speed being 13 knots an hour. She arrived at Terceira on the 10th of August, representing herself to be the Barcelona, built for the Spanish government, and destined for a cruiser in Mexican waters. Eight days afterwards she was joined by the Agrippina, a tender ship sent from London, with all the materials necessary to turn "No. 290" into the "Alabama," such as she was afterwards known, and will be known, as long as ships are built, and men navigate the ocean. Six guns, with coals, stores, and all the requisites of an armed steamer, were transferred to the Confederate vessel; and on the 20th of August the Bahama arrived with Commander Raphael Semmes, some officers, two 32-pounders, and more stores. On the 24th of August the new war steamer got under weigh, and once in the broad ocean Captain Semmes read his commission, formally took command of the vessel, hoisted the Confederate flag, and christened her the " Alabama,” amid the cheers and salutations of all on board. At that time there were 26 officers and 85 men in the ship; and so the Alabama started on her adven

turous career.

No time was lost in commencing offensive operations against the Federal mercantile marine, for on August 29th a Federal brig was chased, but, fortunately for her, she escaped her pursuers in the darkness of the night. A whale ship, from Martha's Vineyard, one of the islands of Massachusetts, was destined to be the first victim of the Confederate cruiser. The fact that the whaler was from such a strictly New England part of America was rather gratifying than otherwise to her captors. Her voyage had been a pretty successful one so far, and she had a good store of whale oil on board. On the 5th of September her crew were busily engaged operating on a valuable sperm whale, lashed alongside, when the Alabama hove within sightnot at all alarming the honest Massachusetts folks, who had no suspicion of the real character of the stranger. Great, however, was their amazement when the boats of the Confederate vessel came up, took possession of her and her cargo, and declared her officers and crew prisoners. Next day the vessel and